The Agents of the Maker
by RogueWardenGirl
Summary: The Archdemon lies dead, killed at the hands of Elissa Cousland, Ferelden's new Warden-Commander. She's expected to lead them now while the country recovers, but other resposibilities drag her, her twin Aedan, Alistair, and Leliana north to Kirkwall. There they must follow orders sent directly from the Maker, but the Chantry doesn't approve. Branded heretics, cast out. Please R&R!
1. Arrival

_Hello, lovely readers! This is obviously the sequel to the Forgotten Cousland, and it's recommended but not required to go read that first. It'll just help. A lot. _

_This starts a year after Hawke returned from the Deep Roads and will contain all the stuff between Act 1 and Act 3, ending with Act 3. And for those who are returning, yes, it's still in Elissa's POV for 99% of the story. So...here you go! Hope y'all like it! Leave some reviews, too! Make me happy lol. _

Anders is teaching Hawke how to heal yet again. And Hawke is failing, yet again. Her frustration is evident with each failure, her temper flaring with each attempt. Eventually, he has her sit on a chair in his clinic under the excuse that he needs to go check on his patients. She knows the real reason, though. He feels awkward when she gets upset, torn between playing friend and playing something else. It irritates Hawke even more that he ignores her advances or pushes them all aside like they mean nothing. Some days she even hates him for it.

Sighing, Hawke gets to her feet, grabbing her staff from its resting place on a table. She strolls past Anders, waving at him over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" the apostate asks, handing a man a potion before following her.

"Home, I think," Hawke says. "It's been a long day and Mother's probably looking for me. I'll...I'll see you later."

He nods once, saying, "Don't go get drunk. Please."

She shrugs as she heads out, Anders on her heels. "I won't. The Viscount needs me at the keep in an hour anyway."

"Really?" Anders asks. "Perhaps...I should come with you."

"It's up to you," she says. "Bye."

"Bye."

Feeling lazy, Hawke decides to use the basement entrance to her new home, forcing herself to not look back at him as she climbs inside.

* * *

><p>"You are an apostate!" Meredith shouts, stepping in my face.<p>

"I am the Hero of Ferelden!" I retort, reaching for my sword. Aedan grabs my forearm, yanking me back, and the Guard-Captain steps between us.

"If you're going to argue, take it outside!" the redhead woman snarls.

"I didn't do anything!" I throw my hands up, walking away several steps. "I walked in here, and there's the damn Knight-Commander waiting to arrest me!" I run a hand through my hair, inhaling deeply. "She can't even do that! I'm a Grey Warden!"

"It's been two years, mage," Meredith snaps, crossing her arms. "All of Thedas knows you left the Wardens."

"Then by all means, arrest me," I say, putting my hands on my hips. "Start a war with Ferelden. Come on; do it." She's fuming and it's very, very obvious. "Smarter than you look."

"Oh-"

"Guards! Escort the Knight-Commander back to the Gallows at once!"

I snort, crossing my arms in annoyance as several of them are forced to take her by the arms and lead her out of the keep. I stand here the entire time, watching with a smug smirk on my face.

"You're not out of trouble yet, either," the Guard-Captain says.

"What? What are you-"

"In my office!" she orders, beckoning Aedan and I after her. I glance at my twin brother, but he seems just as confused as I am, if not more. "I don't know why you're here, Cousland, but I'm warning you now, if you don't behave yourself in my city, I'll personally throw you from it, Fereldan or not."

"Hey, I don't try to create problems," I say. "Trouble seems to find me."

"Like a Blight finds you."

"It was after Aedan and Alistair!" I say defensively.

She snorts in amusement. "You're too friendly."

"I've started to expect people to hate me or like me on the spot," I say, shrugging. "I try my best to make them like me. Outside of Ferelden, I'm just a commoner."

"Meredith is not a fan, then," she says, opening a door set off to the left of the barracks.

"I didn't necessarily expect her to be," I admit. "She's a Templar and I'm a mage she can't arrest without starting a war with any Fereldan on the face of Thedas."

"Considering most of Kirkwall is made up of Fereldans now," Aedan says.

"There will always be enemies," she says, sitting on the edge of her desk. She crosses her arms, sighing, before saying, "Since we skipped introductions, allow me to introduce myself. I am Guard-Captain Aveline Vallen. I remember seeing you both at Ostagar if only for a brief moment."

"I'm Elissa," I say. "Still a Cousland if you ask anyone, but I don't consider myself as such. I prefer to just be called a Warden even though I'm not one any longer." I jerk a thumb over my shoulder, pointing at Aedan. "This is my twin, Aedan."

"Nice to meet you," he says. "You said you saw us at Ostagar?"

She nods once. "For about three seconds, but it's hard to forget a face when you hear that particular face went on to kill an Archdemon."

"I'm flattered," Aedan says.

"You're embarrassing, that's what," I say, pushing his shoulder. "Maybe I should tell Leliana."

"Oh, no! She still hasn't forgiven me for what I did with Morrigan," he says.

"I wonder why," I say, rolling my eyes. "You only cheated on her with a Witch of the Wilds!"

"Witch of the Wilds?" Aveline asks.

"Yes," I say. "She's a real bitch to be exact."

"Flemeth? She helped me and a friend flee from the Blight," she says, looking down. "My husband died before we made it."

"I'm sorry," I say. "I...I wish I could've been there to do something."

"It's fine," Aveline says, shaking her head. "I doubt you could've done anything for him anyway. Flemeth said the only way to cure the Blight was to become a Warden. I don't think you'd know how to make him one after being Wardens for a few weeks."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Still don't know how to. Unless you count swallowing darkspawn blood and lyrium, but that's all I know."

"You...drank darkspawn blood?"

"We don't just kill some of our recruits," Aedan says. "The darkspawn blood can kill you." He glares at me. "And we're not supposed to tell anyone about it."

"We're not Wardens anymore," I say. "I'll flaunt their stupid secrets all I want. If the First Warden comes after me for it, I'll know. He's got quite a ways to go to get here anyway. And then I'll have you, Alistair, and Leliana standing there to back me up regardless."

"The Wardens still-"

The door opens and all three of us look to it.

"Oh, are you busy? I can come back later," the woman says. She has short black hair, the strangest of blue eyes, and a staff. An apostate.

"No, I'm not," Aveline says, standing. "What did you need, Hawke?"

I glance at Aedan and he nods. "I think it's time for us to be going, actually. Thanks for talking to us, Guard-Captain."

"Don't start any trouble," she says.

"I'll avoid the Chantry!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up. "Aedan, let's go. We should head back to the Hanged Man for the night." My brother nods, following me out of Aveline's office. A few guards, Fereldans, salute us on the way past, and I try to do the same back, but after a few minutes, it gets tiring and annoying, so I just say hello. It's not a long walk for us, and I savor the fresh air up here, inhaling deeply.

"How do you think Alistair did?" Aedan asks, following me outside.

I look back at him. "Well enough. I trust him."

"Obviously," he says, snorting.

"You know what I meant," I say, looking up at the moon. It's now in full view of the whole city, meaning gangs are going to be coming out. "So how's Leliana been?"

"She's bored, actually," Aedan says. "She says she misses running around with us, getting into fights and political battles." He shudders as he inhales. "She's joined the Chantry again. She's the Left Hand of the Divine herself."

"Really? Wow." I motion for him to follow me, half-expecting him to stand there anyway, but he doesn't, and we get out into the lower courtyard before a gang decides to take it upon themselves to mess with us. There's a lot of them, too. Far too many for just Aedan and I. Great. Barely here for three hours, and we're already being attacked. Glad I wore my armor.

I draw my bow, firing off two arrows faster than they can even reach for their weapons. Aedan readies his own weapons while I give him the chance, tightening the straps of his laurel shield and drawing the brand-new sword Alistair gave him a month ago. We've actually managed to stay out of combat that long, so that sword hasn't even drawn blood yet. It resembles my own sword, the sword of Andraste herself, but it lacks the...it just looks fake. I don't know how to explain it.

"Watch out!" Aedan shouts.

I whip, but the sword hits my stomach too fast for me to even try to think of a response.


	2. Ferelden Nobles in Kirkwall

Wincing, I try to sit up, but a hand pushes me back down. "You're hurt," a male voice says. It triggers a few memories, ones from Amaranthine, after the First Warden officially recognized me as Warden-Commander of Ferelden. "You need to rest."

"I don't have time for that," I say, propping myself up on an elbow. I blink multiple times, but my eyes refuse to work. I almost flip, almost believe I'm blind, but then I realize there's a cloth over my eyes. Uh...why? I pull at it, tugging it off, when my eyes land on the man moving around the smelly, tiny building. "You!"

"Me!" Anders says, snorting.

"When did you get to Kirkwall? Did the Wardens station you here?"

"No," he says, back to me. "I left the Wardens about a week after you and your brother vanished. I got here last year." He crunches something in his fist and drops it in some sort of liquid, filling the air with and sizzling sound. "You're a lucky, lucky Warden, Commander."

"I'm not a Warden."

"Really? I thought we could never leave the Wardens."

"Then why aren't you still in Amaranthine?"

"Fair enough," he says, reaching up on a shelf for something. "You know, if that sword had hit you any higher up, you'd be dead right now."

"I've been closer to death before."

"Right, Miss I-killed-an-Archdemon-and-lived," Anders says dryly.

"I'd prefer being dead, actually."

"That's a horrible thing to say," he replies. He turns back around from whatever he's brewing to check on me. "Still got the glowy hand?"

"I can't just get rid of it."

"Just asking," he says, shrugging.

"So...why am I here?" I ask. "And uh...where _is _here, exactly?"

"You're in my clinic," Anders says. "In Darktown. Because you got stabbed with a sword fighting a gang in Hightown."

"Yes, but how did I get here?"

"Aedan and Hawke brought you when healing potions wouldn't work," Anders says. He crosses his arms, staring at me with a blank expression on his face. "How long have you been in Kirkwall?"

"How long have I been here?"

"Five hours," he says. "Give or take."

"Then about eight," I say. "Where's Aedan?"

"Up with Hawke," he says. "I can-"

"No," I interrupt. "I want to go to him myself."

"That's a bad idea, Elissa."

"Really?" I ask sarcastically. "I always could just...have Hope heal me! Oh! Didn't think of that one, huh?"

"Hope?"

"I didn't...?"

_I was not helping you in Amaranthine, _Hope says. _My assistance was not needed. _

"Never mind," I say, throwing my feet over the side of the cot. My chest flares in pain, but I stay still, refusing to do more than wince. "I need to talk to Aedan. It's important."

Anders sighs, grabbing his staff. "Then I'm walking you up. You're in no condition to go by yourself."

"I'll go by myself or I'll knock you on your ass."

"You don't even know where Hawke lives."

I growl under my breath in frustration, but I allow him to help me to my feet. "Tell me you have a lyrium potion."

"I do," he says. "Wait here." Then he vanishes into a back room.

I wait a few seconds to make sure he won't come back before I let Hope out. The spirit causes me to glow white in little veins, but her presence rushes healing energy throughout my entire body. I feel my chest knit itself back together and I push her away, extinguishing the glow. Much better.

"Aedan had a smith start repairing your armor," Anders says. "He sent it back not too long ago. I can wait back here while you put it on if you want."

"Please. Where is it?"

"On the table to your left."

I turn in the indicated direction and see it exactly where it was promised to be. I grab the mass of metal, testing its weight like I always do before pulling it over my head. I roll my shoulders to settle the blue and black plates. Satisfied, I tighten the clasps on my sides and the ones under my upper arms. I feel like a walking monster in this. And I don't even have my weapons on yet, let alone the rest of my armor. I pull on the metal rings that go around my forearms, linking them with the edges just beneath my elbow. My boots aren't that hard to get on considering I just have to lock the silverite plates to clasps on the leather.

"Where are my weapons?" I ask.

Anders returns, lyrium potion in hand, and points. "Sorry. There wasn't room on the table."

"It's fine," I say, walking to the indicated direction. I pull my quiver over my shoulder, along with my bow, and strap my sword to my waist. I flex my knee, annoyed that my pants are catching in my boots.

"Ready to go?" Anders asks, handing me my potion.

"Yeah," I say. I pull the cork from the vial, downing the liquid I've come to hate fast enough that I can't think twice.

"Come on."

He leads me out of the relatively empty room to a small platform. He walks over to a ladder leading up into a basement, ringing the bell several inches back. Then he starts climbing the ladder, beckoning me after him. I hesitate before I follow, looking up at the ridiculously long thing leading right into blackness. I take a deep breath as I go, exhaling slowly.

"What are you up to now, Anders?"

"Oh, nothing important," he calls.

"The Wardens are worried," the other voice says. "One of their friends arrived an hour back. She's just as worried. How's-"

"Tell them to shut their faces," I say. "If they want to worry, tell them to worry I might get stuck on this stupid ass ladder."

"Afraid of the dark?" Anders teases.

"After the talking darkspawn in Amaranthine? Surprisingly not. Now heights...definitely heights," I say, looking back over my shoulder. I swallow, squeezing my eyes shut. "Did you know an ogre threw me into the air?"

"Well that explains a lot," Anders says. "Does it have nothing to do with the Archdemon?"

"It never took off with me attached if that's what you're asking."

Anders snorts and accepts help up into the building above us. The woman helps me up after him.

"Miranda! You have guests! Get back up here!"

She sighs, running a hand down her face. "I'm coming, Mother!" She looks back to me, smiling. "I'm Hawke. Miranda Hawke." She offers a hand.

"I'm Elissa," I say.

"The Cousland, right? Hero of Ferelden?"

"I guess so," I say, shaking her hand. "Can you take me to my friends? I...I want to make sure Aedan's all right."

"Your brother is fine," she says, leading Anders and I up from her basement. "I'm more worried about the other Warden, Alistair."

"He's a worrier," I say, chuckling.

"Your bard friend seems just as worried as he is."

"Really? Huh." I shrug as Hawke pushes open a door. She leads us through a kitchen where Anders and I share a glance. You may leave the Wardens, but the Wardens never leave you. Damn, I'm starving.

"Miranda!"

"I'm coming!" She sighs again as we come out into a open room. On the right is a doorway leading into a foyer. On the left is a staircase leading up to another floor.

"Glowly lady!" My eyes land on Sandal and I grin.

"You still got my pack?"

"He won't let go of it," Bodahn says, coming out from the foyer. "I'll dig it up from the chests."

"Thanks," I say, nodding. "I-oof!" I'm attacked by two people, one broad-shouldered and the other thin with red hair. Leliana gets to me first, grabbing me in a hug. "I thought you were in Orlais?" I hug her back, though, glad to see her again.

"I was coming to help you anyway," she says. "The Divine has someone else helping her."

"That's great," I say. "Now I have my family all in one place." She laughs, pulling back with a smile. "Still can't believe Aedan manned up."

"Hey! I charged an Archdemon!"

"I killed one, so..." I shrug.

"If only Alistair would-" Leliana cuts herself off, looking back at the Templar. "Why don't you?"

"Because I don't think the Chantry will let a mage get married."

"I am still a sister," Leliana says.

Alistair's face reddens and I start laughing, shaking my head. "If he doesn't want to, I'm fine with that."

She shrugs. "So what do you plan on-"

"_Miranda!_"

Hawke sighs, rolling her eyes. "I'll be back." We watch her walk upstairs and vanish into a side passage.

"Wonder who is so important Leandra would be yelling for her like that," Anders says.

I shrug, looking back to Leliana. "So what are you doing here?"

"I will tell you when I trust everyone in the room," she says. Her eyes flick to Anders, and Aedan and I laugh.

"You can trust Anders."

"Can I?" Leliana asks, shooting him a scrutinizing glare. I nod, so she looks back to me, eyes full of worry. "Do you remember what Loghain said at the Landsmeet, what he accused you of?" I nod again, confused. She steps closer, and our small circle converges on us. "Word reached Orlais. The Orlesians know what you claim to be, Elissa. They are not a happy people. I fear Empress Celene might send assassins after you."

"Assassins don't scare me. Zev and Cyrus failed, as did the rest of their pals."

"Do you not understand how close we're standing to war with the Chantry?" she demands. "The Divine does not trust me as well as she should. She knows I put you, Aedan, and Alistair first. She knows about our 'cult'. She is letting us slide because she trusts me. But the Templars will not hesitate forever and neither will she. The Knight-Commander here-"

"Meredith has her sword shoves up her ass and all of Thedas knows it," Anders says.

Leliana rolls her eyes, huffing. "Anyway, I was trying to warn you. The Divine sent a message to her. She wants you to be watched. Carefully. At any signs of trouble, she wants you captured and taken to Orlais for a trial."

"That trial wouldn't end well," Alistair says.

"I was trying to put it nicely," Leliana says. "But no, it would not. You would inevitably be found guilty of the highest form of hersey they could think of and then you would be put to death."

"I'm not allowed to do anything fun, basically," I say, snorting. "Except getting drunk. I'll get drunk regardless." Leliana sighs, running a hand down her face. "Look, I'll be careful who I let see me working, and I'll be careful if I see anyone watching me. I can take care of myself, Leliana."

"I know. I just worry about the three of you." She shakes her head. "I should just stay here. Justinia might be my friend, but you're my family."

"You don't-"

"But I want to," she says firmly. "I will be in Kirkwall as long as this is where you are."

Aedan puts a hand on her shoulder, smiling. "I'm glad to hear it."

"I am still angry with you," she says, frowning. Aedan drops his hand, sighing, but she smiles faintly at him. "But maybe you could work on your apology. After all, it was a good reason, as you said." My brother grins at her just as we hear metal boots pounding down the stone steps. Everybody turns to look.

"Cullen."

He keeps his face tactfully blank as he walks past. "Elissa." He walks to the doorway leading into the foyer before stopping. "Thank you. For saving me at the Tower." He hesitates before adding, "The Seekers are coming, as your friend said. I was coming to tell Hawke."

Anders scoffs. "The Knight-Captain, warning an apostate of Chantry involvement?"

"I owed her for helping with the recruits," he says, back to us.

"And what did you owe Elissa for?"

"I said for rescuing me from blood mages at the Circle. Good night."

And with that, the Knight-Captain of Kirkwall vanishes into the night. I look at Leliana, sharing a look of nervousness with her.

"The Divine is serious about this."

"This doesn't bode well for the Agents of the Maker," Aedan says sarcastically.

"It does not," she agrees. "From now on, we should go out as a group. Always."

I nod. "Always." Sounds like we're getting serious with our heretic cult. Great. "Maker give us strength."


	3. The Seekers

_A very basic and short introduction of how the 'cult' gets to Kirkwall, but it works. I hope. Let me know what you thought of it! Now we get into Act 2, and go from there._

That's definitely not the first person I've seen look around the Hanged Man, spot me, and decide to stay. Hawke invited Aedan and I to play Wicked Grace with her, Isabela, and Varric. The two rogues have been cheating the entire time, and so far, I'm the only one that has noticed. Aedan and Hawke are still trying to figure out how the hell they keep losing their sovereigns and I'm still watching the door instead of actually playing.

"Hey! Earth to Elissa! Is Elissa there?" Isabela says, pushing my forearm.

"Stop shouting," I say. "It's still me."

"Good. I was wondering if your stick-in-the-mud friend was out or not."

"Didn't you ask Anders the same thing before?"

"More or less," she says, chuckling.

"In all fairness, when Righty glows, people don't run away screaming," Varric says. "They're dead before they get the chance."

"I hate that nickname," I snap. "It makes no sense. Come up with a new one."

"Doesn't make sense? Ha, madam, you wound me!" Varric says. "Every time you accompany Hawke on a job, you wield that sacred blade of yours and run around killing people because you're so self-righteous."

"I am not," I say. Aedan gives me a look and I shrug. "Okay, fine, maybe a little. But I don't like that nickname!"

He groans. "Fine, fine, you win. I'll think of a new one."

I shake my head, throwing my cards down. "I'm done. I just...I'm too busy for this right now."

"Too busy?" Hawke asks, looking up from her cards. "Doing what?"

"Stuff," I say. I look over my shoulder again, eyes narrowing on the newcomer that has just entered the tavern. She walks up to the table full of people who had been looking for me before they stuck around. The only difference? She wears black armor with the same eye burned into my hand painted onto her armor.

"Seekers?" Aedan asks.

"Seekers," I confirm. She looks back at me, making eye contact. "Looking for me."

"You should go," Hawke whispers. "Head to my estate and go through the basement to Darktown."

"No," I say when she turns back around. "I'll stay here. If they want to talk to me, they can." Aedan gives me a weird look as I lean back over the table. "If it gets uncivilized, I'll just bitch-slap the lot of them." Aedan chuckles, shaking his head. "Yes, brother, I said that just for you."

The door opens again and I whip, suddenly furious, but the person doesn't look for me. He looks past me, running forward when he spots Miranda. "Serah, the Viscount has requested your presence immediately. It's important!"

"Moving up in the world?" I ask my friend, smirking.

"Sadly," she says, getting to her feet. "I'll see you guys later."

The four of us wave at her as she leaves before electing the next person to go get us drinks. Norah does her job just fine, but after the rest of then noticed the Seekers watching me, we're all a bit more curious. Eventually, through the bickering, I volunteer, grabbing all four mugs in the midst of their arguing. I set them on the bar, idly picking at the hem of my shirt sleeve around my wrist. It's just barely visible from under my armor, but it gives me perfect view of the Seekers. Now they're staring at me openly, and I don't like it. Not one bit.

Just as the woman in armor gets to her feet, a Fereldan walks over to me. I stare past his shoulder, glaring at the woman, and she sits, annoyed.

"You...you're the Hero of Ferelden, right?"

"That's me," I say. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if...if you could help my family."

"What do you need? Money?" I look him over, deciding just by the looks of his clothes and how dirty he is that it's exactly what he needs. That, and some good food. "How many kids do you have? Two? Three?"

"Two," he says. "A boy and a girl."

"So...twenty sovereigns? Does that sound good to you?"

His jaw drops. "Twenty? But-"

"That was a rhetorical question," I say, fishing around for the money. "You'll take that much, and you'll like it. Buy yourself some new clothes, food, maybe even a doll for the girl." I hand him the coin. "Or better yet, use that to buy passage back to Ferelden."

"I...I'm not sure I'd even have a home anymore, or even the land I owned."

"You're from Highever," I say. "I recognize you. You were one of the farmers that were between us and Amaranthine, right?" He nods awkwardly. "Fine. Let me see what I can do." I look over my shoulder. "Hey, Varric!" He looks up from his hand of cards, raising an eyebrow. "You got paper upstairs?"

"What good storyteller doesn't have paper in their home?" Varric asks.

"Could I borrow some?"

"Knock yourself out."

I nod, looking back at the farmer. I grab our drinks, too, whispering for Corff to put the charge on Varric's tab before I head back over to our table, leading the Highever man over. I set our mugs down and start for the stairs, jogging up to the dwarf's suite. The man follows me, looking more awkward than he has the past three minutes as I walk into the room. I find paper scattered all over the banquet table Varric keeps, scratching down a short letter to my mother and Fergus before handing it to the refugee.

"When you get there, give that to my brother," I say. "He should help you out."

He just looks stunned. "I...I don't know what to say. Thank you! The Maker truly sent you to us when we needed you!" I cringe inwardly, but nod, forcing a smile.

"Just get out of Kirkwall," I say. "Save your family from this shithole, okay? I hate seeing Fereldans like this." He nods eagerly before heading back downstairs. I huff, waiting a few seconds before I follow him down. I go back to the table, sliding into my spot across from Aedan.

"What was that all about?" Aedan asks, looking up at me.

"He was from Highever and had enough courage to talk to me," I say, shrugging. "Most Fereldans are afraid of me because I'm a mage."

"You're still their hero. They still love you."

"Until they see me," I say, laughing. "Then it's all 'woah, she killed an Archdemon? Time to go!' He came up and asked for help, so I gave it to him."

"There she goes again, miss goody-goody," Isabela says, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, I win!" She slaps her hand down on the table and Aedan groans, running his hand through his short hair. And I mean his hair is short. Shorter than Alistair's. He cuts it so close every time he goes to do it.

Varric chuckles, putting his own hand down. "What was that, Rivani?"

"Damn it, Varric!" She sighs, shaking her head. "I thought I had that one!"

I lean forward, inspecting all three hands on the table. I glance between Varric's and Aedan's several times before saying, "Actually, my brother wins." The two rogues look surprised, leaning in to check for themselves.

"Wow," Isabela says, laughing. "Haven't seen those cards together in years!"

"Well deserved," Varric says, nodding as he sits back in his chair.

"Dumb luck," I say, patting his shoulder. Aedan shrugs, smirking.

"You'd have thought I would've remembered that Isabela cheats."

"We played one game!" The pirate frowns at him, unhappy. "I don't see how anyone could remember that."

"Aedan's magic," I say, flashing my hands in a sarcastic but spectacular motion. The three of them laugh and I do too.

"Leliana's back!" Aedan says happily, getting to his feet. I look over my shoulder, seeing her and Alistair walking into the tavern. Alistair's face is red, but Leliana seems perfectly happy; she even walks with a skip in her step. My eyes narrow suspiciously as she practically skips up to Aedan. "Did...?"

"He was very stubborn about it," she says. "It took forever, and then I had to go catch up with my contact in Darktown, but yes, he did."

"What did he do?" I ask.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Leliana says, plopping down at the table.

"Will you tell me?" Isabela asks. "I hate secrets."

"You cannot even keep them."

"That's a lie," she says, laughing.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Leliana asks, eyebrows knitting together.

"Easy," Aedan says. "She's just teasing."

"I-" Leliana looks down, shaking her head. "Never mind." She looks at me, grinning. "Come on. We are going shopping."

"Dear Maker," I say.

"She's an Orlesian," Alistair says, frowning. "No matter how many times she says she's a Fereldan, she's not. No Fereldan I know would spend that long shopping."

I pat his forearm. "Then you haven't met my mother." Leliana's already up on her feet again, practically bouncing in excitement. Sighing, I climb to my feet, grabbing my bow from its resting place against the bench. "All right. Let's get this over with."

"It will not be that bad," she says.

"Somehow I doubt that."

Leliana laughs as she leads the way to the door. She hardly pays any attention to the Seekers, but I see her eyes flick over for the briefest of seconds. She gives the woman a hard look before going outside. This is going to be such a fun day. I follow the bard out, stepping past the Seekers without so much as a glance.

Just before the door shuts behind me, I hear chairs sliding back.

"Here!" Leliana exclaims, waving her arm furiously. Then she rushes down the steps leading to the foundries, and I run after her, looking over my shoulder. The Seekers are coming outside. Great.

I turn the corner and almost jump down to the ground below, but I restrain myself and jog down them. "Leliana?!"

"This way!"

Thank the Maker it's too early for most people to be out and about.

I head towards her voice, looking around for her, when I feel a hand grab me by the arm and pull me off the streets. I fumble for my knife, but she snaps at me in a whisper and I relax. She pulls me along the alley until we're so far down that there's little light between the buildings. It's cramped, very, very thin. I can barely walk without turning to the side.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Away from the Seekers. Be quiet."

I snap my mouth shut, looking back, but no one is following us, so I risk talking again. "They've never been that bold before."

"No," Leliana agrees. "Meaning you must have done something to set them off."

I start racking my brain, trying to remember everything I've done since I arrived in Kirkwall two years ago. I've gotten into messes with Hawke and Anders between the mages and Templars. I've killed gangs and murderers haunting the streets of this city. But with anything that I might have had to take a side in, I've remained neutral. When Hawke and Anders would start yammering about mages, I'd always point out things about how neither the Templars or the mages are that great even though I believe otherwise. When they'd fight Templars, I'd only kill one if they were getting the best of my allies. I've done exactly as I've been told, and I still manage to make mistakes.

_Nobody is perfect, _Hope says.

_But I have to be. The Maker- _

_The Father wants to to do what he tells you. That does not mean he expects perfection. You are a human. Perfection is impossible. _

Leliana steps aside into a small courtyard, leaving me room to free myself. I stumble out of the crack we came through, catching myself on the wall.

"What's with you and enclosed spaces?"

"I like them," she says. "No one can sneak up on me this way."

I shake my head, coughing. "I feel like I'm about to die."

"Do you not like tight spaces?"

"Apparently not."

"Then next time I will drag you into a castle," she says sarcastically. I roll my eyes while my heartbeat slows, breathing in a controlled manner.

"How long are we going to stay back here?"

"Until I am sure the Seekers have lost us."


	4. Nightmares

"Let me get this straight. You want me, the biggest heretic in Thedas, to help you, an Andrastian, find Qunari explosives."

"Yep."

"Great."

"You in or out?" Hawke asks, crossing her arms.

I shake my head, sighing. "I'm in, but-"

"No buts!" Miranda says before leading me out of her estate. "Only dos!"

I open my mouth to respond, but I can't even think of one, so I just follow my friend out into Hightown, inhaling the somewhat clear air. A lot more people are out now and Aveline's guards move amongst them, running patrols over the city. Several of them glare at the resident Fereldan I'm walking behind, content to just totally ignore my very existence. I swear, I could punch one of them and no one would care.

"I have a question for you, Elissa."

"Is it a serious question or are you going to start making darkspawn jokes again?"

"Hmm," she says, looking back at me with a smirk. "That's a very good question. But no, it's serious. It's been bothering me the past few days."

"What is it?"

"Anders says you and your...friends aren't really here because there's some Warden stuff you were looking into," she says. "You're not even in the Wardens anymore."

"Get to the point or I'll get bored."

"I've heard rumors," Miranda says. "Rumors that you seriously believe that the Maker talks to you."

"Why would I not believe that?" I ask. "I walked into a temple with Andraste's Ashes in it. A ghost talked to me. He told me things people wouldn't even think of yet. He gave me Andraste's sword, for Maker's sake! Burned the damn symbol of the Seekers into my hand!"

"All right, all right!" she exclaims, waving her hands at me.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "But your question?"

"If that's really true, if the Maker really does talk to you, why are you really in Kirkwall?"

"I can't say. But understand that if I was here to hurt someone, I would've already done it," I say. "Besides, if you think Anders and Justice are hard to stop, then you might as well just accept I'm going to kill you."

"Is Hope that bad?" Hawke asks.

"She is," I admit with a brisk nod. "She's...she's also the only reason I'm even alive today, so...I can't really say I hate her."

"Maybe you should talk to Anders about Justice, then," she says softly.

I shake my head. "It won't do any good. I've met Justice. I found the Warden he was possessing. He's changed fat too much."

"So why doesn't Hope flip out when you fight Templars like Justice does?"

"I care for other mages. I do, a lot more than I should considering I've been told to remain neutral at all costs, but I don't think Templars are completely wrong. Mages have their own faults just as much as the Templars do. Templars have their own troubles. If I blame anyone for the crisis that's brewing, I blame the Chantry. They use lyrium to control their Templars. They abuse them despite knowing what being a lyrium addict can do to a person. And in turn, the Templars take their anger and frustration out on the mages. But mages aren't entirely helpless or blameless. If they'd try to understand how the Templars are abused, then maybe they wouldn't feel the need to use blood magic to retaliate. And if the Templars would do what Andraste intended and just watch unless needed, then the mages wouldn't feel abused either."

"You have quite the view on the Chantry."

"I'm already a heretic," I mutter. "I might as well go the whole way and start thinking of how to improve the system."

"If people didn't fear us, I'm sure it would be much better," Hawke says.

"You want open apostate-love, head back to Ferelden," I say. "Queen Anora is more than happy to let us run amok."

"That's part of the reason Ferelden is hated," she says.

"Only part?"

"You're another part," Miranda says, looking back at me. "Many nobles here question how a noblewoman turned apostate Warden goes to be the Hero of Ferelden in only a year."

"They wouldn't like the answer."

"Those that do, do not," she agrees. "But hey, you're the only mage the Chantry doesn't hate on principle."

"No, they hate me because I'm a heretic idiot who won't back down because they've sent the Seekers to watch me."

Hawke shakes her head, chuckling, as she pulls the door to the Hanged Man open. "Wait here. I'm bringing Varric and Isabela with us."

"Isabela doesn't mix with Qunari well."

"It's a good thing I already went to talk with the Arishok, then, isn't it?"

I nod, shrugging, as I lean up on the wall. I fold my hands together in front of me and cross an ankle, watching the people walk by. Many of them are Marchers. Most are Fereldans. Some are elves. I'm surprised this many of my countrymen have made it up into Lowtown. Anders is being a putz. Can't say I blame him, though. If the Templars weren't afraid to touch me, I'd be down in Darktown, too. But that'll change eventually, and I'll have to disappear again. And Ferelden won't be a place for me to run to. The country has too many memories, most of them too painful for me to bear. Aedan and Alistair feel the same way; it's why they were more than happy to follow me here to Kirkwall.

Now I'd be more than happy to leave, to jump ahead in time to the next person I'm charged with defending. But that's still six years off. Sox more years Thedas has to learn. Six more years for them to fear us.

I don't see how I'm supposed to make people unafraid of mages. I'm the shining example of why they _should _be afraid.

"Ready to go?" Hawke asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Oh. Yeah. Where are we off to?"

"Darktown," Varric says. "Bet the Coterie knows where Javaris is."

"Javaris?" I ask, walking alongside Hawke.

"A dwarf we ran into a year before you showed up," she says, jogging down the set of stairs leading to the foundries. "He was bargaining with the Qunari for their explosives, and now someone has stolen it. But he'd made up a job for us to do, and he never got his explosive powder."

"Something tells me it won't be him," I say.

"What makes you say that, glowy?" Isabela asks.

"That's it!" Varric exclaims, snapping his fingers. "Glowy!"

I groan, slapping my forehead. "And what if Anders comes along?"

"He's Blondie," Varric says, shrugging.

"Maker, I hate dwarves," I mutter.

* * *

><p>I feel sort of useful. I spot those latches on the mercenaries carrying them, kill them, and then go lock the barrels down faster than the others can. That also makes me a target, but I don't really care.<p>

I go to grab the third, but an arrow bounces off the ground beside my hand and I jump, straightening instantly. My hand gets covered in frost almost immediately and I send the spell flying, freezing the man solid. Isabela appears out of nowhere and drives her daggers into him, shattering the statue easily. I grab the latch before sprinting back to the nearest barrel. I shove it into place, spinning it several times and then pushing down on it, locking the barrel shut, and killing the supply of poison. I purposely cough a few times to clear my lungs while I draw my sword, sliding into a defensive crouch as more enemies drop from the rooftops. Considering Hawke only brought Varric, Isabela, and me, that leaves me to taking most, if not all, the melee fighters on while they cover my back.

A sword bounces off my shoulder guard and I spin, shoving a fist into the man's stomach while blocking another blow with my sword.

"Elissa! Get out of there!" Hawke yells. I barely spare a glance over the small gap in the ground, but see her preparing a combustion grenade regardless. I kick at the nearest mercenary before I let Hope loose and jump the square hole. The instant my feet hit the ground, I shove her away and roll to my feet, cringing at the blast after she throws it. I...I don't have good memories about those things.

I completely freeze, muscles stiffening. I go deaf to the world, my breathing picks up, and my heart races. No, no, no, no-

I see Zev lob one at me and Wolf again. I feel Cyrus point his sword at my neck. I see those guards in Fort Drakon whipping them upstairs at Leliana and I. All the fear and horror comes rushing back to me at once, making me seize up. I start flexing my fingers, wishing I had my weapons on me. But I don't. I had to set my bow aside to drink a lyrium potion. Alistair's somewhere back in the prison. My brother's going to save him, but there are explosions rocking the building. I hear my name and look over at Leliana, whose hiding behind a bench. She's telling me to move. She's screaming at me to, and then I realize it's not her, not her voice. It's a dark-skinned woman in white with really tall boots.

"Elissa!" She ducks under something before pushing me over. I hit the ground in a blur, blinking like crazy to clear my head. The world comes rushing back to me. My eyes burn, my lungs ache. "What are you doing?! Get back in it!" She presses something into my hand. A sword. A gold sword. I blink stupidly. My...? Since when...?

She pushes my shoulder furiously before getting to her feet and jumping back into the fighting. She goes to the aid of a mage, another woman, who is throwing spells around desperately. Enemies, crazed enemies, close in on the two and the dwarf with them.

What-

Holy Maker!

I blink again, jolting myself back to reality, and leap to my feet. I shove my sword through a mercenary's back, duck under an axe, and pull my sword free before kicking out at the axeman. He topples over the edge of the pit, screaming.

And then I see the latch on him.

"No!" But he's gone, vanished into the darkness.

Angered, I whip around in a flourish, lashing out with a fire spell. The closest of the mercenaries, all four of them, burst into flame, staggering around and screaming.

I look around, panting, when I realize I don't see Hawke, Isabela, or Varric anywhere nearby. All I see are mercenaries. A whole bunch of them, standing in a ring around something. I yell in frustration before leaping at the nearest, cutting her down so fast I can't even blink.

That's when I notice it's not even me anymore.

Hope cuts a swath through the mercenaries, giving them enough pause that the others can defend themselves. Hawke casts healing spells on them and distributes potions, stamina ones. Creepy yellow things I don't understand. But Varric and Isabela drink them without question while Hawke downs a lyrium potion. Then they rejoin me in the killing, shooting me worried glances. I just scream inwardly, trying, failing, desperate to regain control over Hope. But she resists with everything she has, and it's all I can do to watch in horror as she kills all of them mercilessly. They attacked us first, but maybe they could've been saved, healed. Maybe Anders could've gotten the poison out of them. Maybe they could've gone back to their families. But no. Hope kills every last one of them before marching up to the final barrel and kicking it so hard it splinters. The gas explodes everywhere, engulfing the entire alley-courtyard. Hawke and the others run for higher ground. A spell washes over my body and then Hope expands it, destroying every little piece of the poison gas quickly enough.

"Serah Hawke."

Hope whirls on the elf up above, and without a second thought, launches herself at the woman and her guards. Her guards die quickly, but she proves to be another challenge altogether. She swings that greatsword with skill and speed. It's still not enough to stop Hope. The spirit dashes in and out, around, up, down, left, right, everywhere, until the elf is so confused that she swings in the opposite direction while yelling. Hope goes left and down, shoving my sword into the elf's side.

And then Hope is gone.

I fall to my knees, staring at my hands, my bloody hands, in horror. My sword slides from my grasp with a clatter, but I don't make any move to reach for it. I start shaking, shuddering, unable to breathe.

"I..." I look down at the ring of bodies where my friends stood mere moments ago. All of them, dead. "I'm so sorry."

"Uh...are you okay?"

I look back at Hawke, snorting. "Of course I'm okay. Hope never gets me hurt. She just hurts everyone else." I look away, staring up at the sky. "Because that's what He wants." I punch the ground furiously, covering my fist in more blood. This time it's my own. "Because I'm to damn important to die!" I climb to my feet, shouting in anger. I get my boot under the crossguard of my sword before I kick it down into the courtyard. "Because I have to be a monster! Because I kill so many so easily!"

"Elissa, you saved countless innocents," Hawke says gently. "You stopped the gas when you lost one of the latches. You defeated a Blight."

"But how many lives did it cost in the process?!" I snap, whirling on her. "If I hadn't become a Warden, I wouldn't have freaked out over the sound of a grenade! If I hadn't frozen like that, maybe we could've helped these people! If-"

"You can't save everyone!" Hawke says, coming up the steps. "You should know that! You've fought in battles, heard men and women scream as they died, and you're worried about lunatics that were poisoned?!"

"I let this happen, though!" I shake my head, suddenly more furious than ever. "I could've paid more attention to Leliana's contacts! I could've-"

She grabs my shoulders,shaking me once. "You can't do everything. You can't save everyone, you can't predict everything. You can't do what the Maker doesn't want you to do. Fate is fate, and we have no say in the matter. Okay?"

I throw her off, glaring. "Okay."

And then I turn, running back the way we came.

* * *

><p>"Would you like a drink, dear?"<p>

I grunt, slicing the arm off another training dummy. "No. Thank you."

Leandra sighs before going back upstairs.

I resume cutting the training dummies to shreds, furious. Furious with myself, furious with the combustion grenade, furious with everything. Furious that I've ended up using my sword more often than my bow. Furious that I ever went to Haven. Beyond furious with that damned high dragon that is now rotting away with the cultists on that cursed mountain. That's the whole reason the grenades freak me out anymore.

My foot catches on the post of a dummy and in my blind rage, I trip myself, slamming my head off the floor.

When I look up, I don't see a ceiling. I see that high dragon again, jaws wide, ready to kill me just as easily as it had Alistair. I yelp, rolling away, and when I get back on my feet, I realize it was the exact same thing that happened earlier; I was just reliving the past.

Damn it. Damn it all!

I kick the nearest off its post before I stomp over to a stone column and plop down on the floor. I lean against it, inhaling deeply, staring at the ceiling above. What did I ever do to deserve this? Why does life have to beat me at every turn? I sigh, throwing my sword down beside me. Because life just sucks. That's why.

Closing my eyes, I beg to the Maker, to any deity there is, to let me sleep peacefully.

* * *

><p>I still can't stop staring at him, at the blood. I know he's dead. I know I'll end up the same way if I don't focus, but I just can't help it. I keep hoping, begging, pleading, that he's alive. But that won't change how severe his wounds are.<p>

All the while I'm slowly dying, Hope bounces around the battlefield, firing off arrows and spells when needed, drinking lyrium potions and pausing to catch her breath. The high dragon seems unfazed by it all, snapping its jaws at Talith or Cyrus whenever they get close enough. It hardly pays attention to Zev, but Zev is also smart enough to stay out of reach. Talith has no real choice in the matter whereas Cyrus could always get around behind it. Morrigan works her way towards Alistair, and part of me wants Hope to scream at her to help us instead, that he's dead, but another prays that she can help him.

I can't lose Alistair. I just can't.

"Elissa! Aim for its eyes!" Talith shouts, gesturing frantically. It snaps at him again, but he rolls underneath it, shoving his Templar blade through its armpit. The dragon roars in pain, throwing its head back. The wings come in again, but Hope follows his orders, aiming one of her last arrows for its face. Before the massive, leathery wings can snap inward, the broadhead slams into the soft flesh. The beast screams, actually screams, and Cyrus drives his daggers through its foreleg. It retaliates in a blind fury, smacking all of them aside with its tail or its claws. Hope leaps out of the way, watching as her allies are blasted over.

I still don't care.

She actually feels bad. She regrets letting them get hurt. But that only serves to make her angrier and she runs at it, going into such a ridiculously high jump that I get sick. Heights. Ugh. I hate them.

Without hesitation, she pulls a combustion grenade from my pack as she lands on its back. The spirit runs up towards its neck, dropping the prepped explosive in between its shoulder blades. Then she drops more, several of them, before starting to retreat. She severely underestimated the time those things take to detonate. The dragon doesn't even get to feel any pain. The explosion rips the beast to pieces and throws me off its back. I flip head over heels, rolling down the small hill to the nearby tower. Snow coats me, sticking to my cold armor and the dragon blood staining it.

I still hear the explosion echoing in my head.

0o0o0o0

I jump, panting, heart racing. My head spins, checking that it's not real, that it was just a nightmare.

"Forgotten," a voice says.

I grab my sword reflexively, pointing it in the direction of the voice. When I recognize Theorn, an elf that helped Aedan gather the last of the Wardens' allies, I lower my arm.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asks, crouching. "I was only observing. You seem tired."

"Don't you ever sleep?"

"Not usually, no," Theorn says, helping me to my feet. "I have more important things to do." I raise an eyebrow in a silent question. "You expect me to tell you?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"I knew you for week or so," Theorn says, adjusting his strange clothing. "I might know you work for the Maker, but that does not mean you are trustworthy, Forgotten."

"Well, if you need my help, don't hesitate to ask. Maker knows I could use some fresh air."

He grins a crooked smile at me. "Perhaps later. For now, you should head over to the Chantry courtyard. Aedan is there. They're talking about you."

"What? Who is?"

"The Grand Cleric. An order has come from Val Royeaux, straight from the Divine."

"What?!" I shove my sword into its scabbard before I run up the steps of the basement, looking around the entry room where Bodahn, Sandal, and Leandra usually are. They're gone now. The mansion feels...abandoned. Worried, I run outside, but find the courtyard deserted. I hear shouting coming from across Hightown, screaming and the clang of armor. Now more than worried, scared more like, I sprint down the cobblestone, hurrying into the walkway. I see a crowd assembled out there. So many people. It looks like all of Kirkwall.

"People of Kirkwall!"

Grand Cleric Elthina.

"Hear me now! Divine Justinia has declared the Hero of Ferelden an enemy of the Chantry! The heretics that follow her are no better!" The citizens scream, fueled by her words. I push through the crowd, fighting with everyone blocking my way. They shove me around, furious. "Anyone found to be helping them will be sent to Orlais for a trial, sentenced, and returned to Kirkwall to carry their punishment out. This is effective immediately!"

I shove my way to the front of the assembled masses, eyes wide. There's the Knight-Commander standing with the Grand Cleric, grinning viciously down at me.

"Templars! Arrest the Hero!"


	5. Tranquil Solution

My hand falls to my sword, drawing the weapon in the blink of an eye. The Templars surround me just as quickly and I spin in a full circle, counting all of them. Twenty. There are twenty of them. Excuse me while I do my happy dance.

"Drop the weapon!" a Templar orders. I don't even twitch. I start thinking, though. Thinking about which direction I want to run in. Definitely not forward. Not left or right. Back. Through the crowd. Maybe I can get into Darktown and vanish. Leliana and I spent a month or so searching for hiding places down there; I have plenty to disappear for as long as I have to.

But I have to get there first. And I have to avoid all Templars until Hawke is safe.

"I said-"

"I refuse to drop my sword, and that's the end of it," I snap.

The Templar shakes his head. "Get her!" He charges me first, but I bend down, slamming into his knees. I throw him over my back, spinning, and leap over him, driving my sword into another's skirted thigh. I duck, throwing my weight into my elbow as I hit a metal-encrusted abdomen. The next comes at me from my left, but I sort of expected that, and I summon the energy for a spell, throwing all the force I can muster into ripping his feet from beneath him. He flips and falls with a clang. A knight slams her shield into my back, pitching me off my feet, but I recover quickly, totally ignoring the fact that I lost my sword. She comes at me again. I'm ready for her this time, and as she goes to smack me with that metal disk, I slip under it, grabbing the latch on her arm. I yank it free and the shield clatters to the ground. Before she can reach for it or prepare to swing at me, I drive my elbow under her arm, numbing it. She yelps, dropping the weapon. I kick her in the chest to knock her off her feet. Two more come at me, but they're just plain old Templars, and they raise their swords in the air. I catch one's wrist in my hand, blocking the other sword with a slap. Bending his arm behind his back, I slip past him, shoving him into his friends.

I did all of that without Hope.

And as I turn back to Meredith, she doesn't look happy. More of her Templars start forward, but the Grand Cleric raises her hand, and they pause, looking up at her.

"She's not to be arrested, Knight-Commander," Elthina says. She gives me a sympathetic look, like she doesn't agree, before looking back at her Templar. "I'd be thankful if I were you. She could've killed your men, but they're all alive."

"Somewhat," I say. I glance back at the Templars surrounding me as they writhe in pain. "More or less, Your Grace."

"For what it's worth, Fereldan, I don't agree with this order."

I bow at the priestess. "I understand. I didn't expect any different."

"Elissa!" I turn, looking to Alistair as he shoves his way from the crowd. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

"She beat the living hell outta the Templars," Aedan says, grinning. "What else?"

"Go," Elthina says, nodding her head. "Before something worse happens."

The four of us nod, backing out of the Chantry courtyard as quickly as possible. The crowd parts for us as we head back into the deserted part of Kirkwall, looking at us like we deserve to die. I lead my party away with a stiff back, scooping up my sword from where I dropped it. I throw Meredith another wicked glare before I completely forget them and the announcement as we walk away.

"Hey," Leliana says, tapping my shoulder. "Hawke needs us in Darktown. At Anders' clinic."

I nod, shifting my quiver on my back. "Then let's get going."

Our walk is quick; we cut through Hawke's estate and slide down the ladder, knocking on one of the doors before entering. She's helping him hold a man down while he tries to heal a wound, but the man struggles wickedly, thrashing like a madman. She practically sits on him before Anders can get even a simple spell on the wound, and then she still has to force a healing potion into him.

"Need any help?" I ask.

"No, we got it," Anders says, nodding at his helper. "You can let go of him now. I got as much healed as I could."

Miranda nods, too, standing and brushing herself off as she straightens the weird leathers she wears. She looks at the four of us. "I need your help."

"Obviously."

She doesn't shoot back with a smartass comment, so I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow. "Look, I hate asking you four, of all people, to come with us, but there's no one I trust enough to bring along." I don't like where this is going. "I'm not even sure I trust you enough, but I'm not stupid, and one of you is always up my ass when I'm off doing something. If you want to protect me, I could really use the help now." I just shift, arms still crossed over my chest. "Anders and I want to go investigate a Templar. He says he should be down-"

"I'll show you," Anders says.

Hawke sighs, saying, "I know none of you like going with me when Templars could be around, and I know I'm asking for you to come when Templars are guaranteed to be there, but-"

I wave a hand, looking at the floor.

_Gain Anders' trust. Help him. _

"We're coming," I say. "What for, exactly?"

"There's a Templar Knight in tunnels lyrium smugglers use to get into the Gallows," Anders says. "He wants to make all the mages in the Free Marches Tranquil."

"Of course he does," I mutter, nodding. "Well, we're ready to go whenever you are."

"Now?" Hawke asks.

I glance at my followers before nodding again. "Now is preferable."

"Great," she says, wiping her hands off on her trousers again. "Meet us outside."

* * *

><p>These are definitely used.<p>

We're coming up on scaffoldings and wooden beams keeping the ceiling braced. I don't like the thought that those could be the only things keeping me alive right now. But they're well-maintained and that offers a little comfort.

"Last time I go anywhere with you," Aedan mutters.

"Don't like being underground?" Hawke asks.

"Not after the Deep Roads," Leliana says, shuddering. Aedan puts a comforting hand on her shoulder, smiling. "Lucky you missed that."

"I'd rather have been with you guys the entire time," I say.

Our group falls silent after that, ears straining for any sounds. We've already fought through most of the tunnels and according to Anders, we're getting close to the Gallows entrance. Thinking back on it, I'm glad we killed the idiots back there. Less lyrium for the addicts above us. They deserve to suffer. They-

I blink, dragging myself away from that. Neutral. I must remain neutral.

"Bridge," Anders says. "Old. One at a time." He is the first to cross said bridge and he beckons Miranda after him. It creaks under the weight of people again, but stays strong.

Still not reassuring.

"Alistair," Anders says, waving to the Templar beside me.

He looks down at me before shaking his head. "I'll go last."

The apostate sighs, looking to Leliana. "Your turn, then."

Aedan gives her a reassuring smile before she starts across, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. The bridge sways. The bridge is _supposed _to be rooted to the ground on either end, and it sways.

"Go!" Aedan exclaims. The Orlesian sprints across the last of it and Aedan leaps after her. She gets caught on one of the planks and trips, but Aedan pulls her to her feet and practically throws them both to the other side.

I look at the bridge and how unstable it is. I don't want to walk across that. I really don't. Looking over the edge, I see just how far down the path drips off. And I can't even see the bottom. All I see is fog and mist gathering thirty feet down.

"I can't do this," I whisper, taking a step back.

Alistair grabs my hand, giving me a firm but reassuring look. "Yes, you can. I've seen you do scarier things."

"But...do you see how far down that goes?!"

"Don't look down, then," Alistair says. "Watch." He takes a step onto the plank and looks back at me. "Easy."

"No."

"Elissa, you have to," he says. "Come on." He extends a hand to me, but I take another step away from him and the bridge. I really don't want to use that bridge. The jump is too far, even with Hope out. But I promised I'd help, and I will. "Please?"

"Please?" I ask, snorting.

Alistair shakes his head, sighing. He takes another step and the plank creaks. Loudly. I see the cracks as the wood starts to splinter. He notices too and makes a run for it. Planks start falling behind him.

Dear Maker. And I thought this place was well-maintained?!

As he gets to the end, the last plank drops from under his feet, but he catches himself on the edge of the stone, and Aedan and Anders pull him up.

"Uh..."

There's nothing left of the bridge. Nothing whatsoever. Except that damn crossbeam with nails sticking up out of it. And if the planks weren't strong enough to hold us, then why would that be? And why am I even thinking about it? If I didn't have the guts to cross the bridge, why would I have the guts to walk across a three-inch thick piece of wood?!

"Well that could've gone better," Hawke says.

"No, really?" I snap. "Now what?"

"Jump?" Aedan suggests.

I scoff although I'm sure they can't hear it. "Hell no!"

"Unless you're gonna walk on that thing," she says, pointing at the crossbeam.

I shake my head, gulping. "I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"I guess not," Hawke agrees.

"Let's hope I can do this," I mutter under my breath.

I take a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut, before I walk back over to the edge of the cliff. I gingerly put my foot on the wood beam. It groans under my weight and my first response is to pull away, but I calm my nerves as I take a full step onto it. I put my hands out to my sides for balance as I move ever so slowly, but I sway with the beam and each step. I feel it shaking under me.

Nope. Not backing down now.

I step over a nail, placing all my weight on my leading foot, when I hear it snap.

"Shit!"

The beam snaps under my foot, splintering, not giving me time or room to run for it. My right leg drops from under me and I fall after it, heart racing. Someone yells my name-Alistair?-but I'm gone, tumbling through the air. I hit the layer of fog quickly, slapping myself in the face with it.

I need a way out of this!

My mind races, thinking, burning, when it clicks. This is going to hurt a lot, but I'd rather dislocate a shoulder than fall to my death.

I flip in the air, falling back-first. The wind whips at my hair, but I ignore it.

_This better work, _I snap.

I let Hope free, and I can see everything in a twenty foot radius. Meaning I see absolutely nothing. I was at the exact center of the beam when it collapsed. And I'm not sure what way was the right one. Damn it, I'll have to guess. I throw my right arm out to my side, casting a spell on the far off wall.

And it suddenly becomes down.

I fall towards it, whipping around so hard I almost snap my neck. Now I'm falling headfirst, and the ground is approaching a lot faster than I had anticipated. My eyes widen and I twist, putting my shoulder in the line of fire. I slam into the stone with a sickening crunch as I crush my entire arm. I scream, pushing myself off it.

"Hope...you better be able to heal that," I say, wincing as a blinding pain shoots up and down my arm. "Because I'm not moving like this." I roll onto my back, breathing heavily through my nose.

_It'll hurt, _Hope says.

"I don't care!" I exclaim, screaming with another flare. "Dear Maker! Heal it!"

She seems reluctant to do so, her buzzing having dimmed and quieted, but she does, healing the stinging scrapes first. Then she straightens my shoulder out again, tearing the flesh around my shoulder blade. I bite my tongue to keep from screaming. She knits the flesh together once my shoulder is in place and then sets to work on putting all the bone fragments floating around in my arm back. It hurts the least, but then she has to break my arm all over again to put the thing back together.

I wish I was dead. Holy freaking Maker, nobody deserves to feel this pain!

_There. It is done. _

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding, relaxing all of my tensed muscles. My heart is pounding, crashing around loudly enough it echoes in my head. I stare at what's my ceiling, just trying to calm down and realize I'm fine. Fine-ish. I stay like that for another moment before I roll onto my stomach and push myself to my feet. My arm is sore, but it cooperates perfectly. I just hope there's no more fighting even though I know there will be.

* * *

><p>I see the edge of the cliff and I jump, lashing myself back to the path. I land on my feet after righting myself. The force of impact shakes my knees, but I keep my footing. I check to make sure I'm on the correct side before continuing at a run, leaping the next bridge without a second thought. It's much shorter than the previous, nonexistent one, but I still don't want to walk on it. Not after my last experience.<p>

It's been no longer than five minutes after my fall, but I can already hear fighting from up ahead.

"Templars! Arrest the apostates!"

I put on a burst of speed before smothering Hope, running on my own. I turn through a doorway, skidding to a stop.

She was not kidding about there being Templars here.

I scan the fighting, searching for anyone that needs help. I spot Leliana first, fending off several Templars on her own. They have her backed into a corner, but she's got her bow ready, and she's shooting at them. Her arrows bounce harmlessly off their shields. It quickly becomes apparent she's starting to panic as her arrows come off a lot less accurately. Some of them even lower their shields and she still misses.

Anders is getting punched.

I pull my bow off my back, slapping an arrow on the bowstring and firing into the crowd without a second thought. My arrow slams into the gap between the armor and the Templar's helmet, blasting his body off its feet. The other Templar's whip, searching for me, but I already have three more arrows loose, hitting their marks.

"You will feel Justice's burn!" Anders shouts furiously.

Great. Blondie has gone glowy.

That's _my _job. Asshole.

"Ser!" A Templar points at me for his leader, and the man sneers.

"The heretic, too? Good," he says. "Arrest all of the apostates!"

I pull my bow back over my shoulder and draw my sword. The Knight uses a smite, blasting me off my feet. Drained, I groan, rolling onto my back before flipping to my feet. I've learned to not rely on my mana to keep me going. I've been a rogue since I was born. Time to start acting like it.

I run at him, but before I can get behind him, he drops his sword and grabs my arm, twisting it around behind my back. My own sword hits the ground as he forces me to my knees. The Templar grabs my other arm and ties them together somehow.

"Smite them!" he orders.

I feel a heavy weight on my wrists. Chains.

I watch as they take down my companions, all of them except for Anders. Hawke is thrown beside me and bound in irons. They throw my friends in a clump together, pulling their weapons from their hands. Another mage is put with Hawke and I, but she's not cuffed. She sits there, eyes wide in horror.

I don't realize I'm reaching for Hope until I realize I can't find her. The Templars...they're doing something to me, something that's not affecting Justice. The spirit defends himself from the metal-clad monsters, killing and maiming any that get too close. When all of them focus on him, they prepare one massively powerful smite that totally nullifies him, and then they drag him over to us.

The Knight paces along his line of captive mages, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"Edmund! You have the knife?" he asks. A Templar nods, pulling a hilt from his belt. A blue blade fizzles to life from it, shimmering, and my body screams to get away from it. The other mages see just as agitated by it, but Aedan, Leliana, and Alistair don't seem bothered. "Prepare to perform the Rite."

"Here, ser? Don't we need-"

"We don't need Meredith's approval to rid Thedas of four monsters!" he snarls.

Oh no.

I need to do something. Anything. I need to get the others free, get myself free, defend myself before they make me a husk.

"Who's going first?" the Knight asks, turning back to us. He doesn't even look anywhere else but me, and I know I'm first, whether I like it or not. He chuckles. "The famed Hero of Ferelden, Tranquil. What an insult to that dirt country." He grabs me by the arm, hauling me to my feet. He guides me where they all can see me before forcing me back to my knees.

"I'll kill you," I snap. "You'll pay for what you do to mages."

"I'm doing the Maker's work, mage."

"Of course you are," I say, rolling my eyes. "And I'm not a heretic. I'm not marked by Him. Yes, all of that's true." I shake my head as a Templar pulls the irons from my wrists.

He crouches in front of me. "I'm going to enjoy watching the light leave your eyes." He straightens, ordering, "On your feet! Now!"

I comply slowly, but the Templars grab me and lift me into a standing position. They hold my arms out to my sides, ripping away my arm guards and throwing them aside. Cutting away the sleeves of my lower arms, they then go still, chanting something quietly. The Templars gather around me and begin whispering, too.

The Chant of Light.

The Templar approaches, blue knife in hand. He begins chanting, too, placing the knife blade on my wrist. It stings, burning my veins, but I don't flinch. He drags it down my wrist, but instead of blood, I see a blue liquid drip to the ground. I feel a surge of weakness before I understand. They're draining my body of any mana there could be. Once it turns red, the Templar holding my arm ties a bandage around it before returning to his eerily still position. The Knight does the same with my other wrist and I feel like nothing. I don't feel it regenerating. I just feel...cold and weak.

He walks around behind me, saying, "And so we save Thedas from another abomination." He plunges the knife into the back of my neck, and Hope screams.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter."


	6. An Adventure

I don't feel any different. Am I supposed to?

I open my eyes and see bloody bandages wrapped around my wrists. Heat floods my body, an angry rush of energy. Hope bursts free out of nowhere and I leap to my feet, spinning. I pull the knife from his grasp and shove it under his jaw in the same motion. His eyes widen and he staggers back, gurgling blood.

Then his eyes burn in his skull and he falls, dead.

The Templars draw their weapons, but I yell in frustration, slamming a fist into the ground. The earth explodes, throwing metal bodies everywhere. They slam into the walls, into the ground, even each other. But none of them move after they hit.

"Uh..." I whip, marching over to my sword. I pick it up before turning back to the blond man who spoke. He's one of them. He's a Templar. Templars deserve nothing more than death. And he'll die too. Just like the rest. Just as easily.

I put the point of the blade against his neck and his eyes widen. "What are you doing?!"

"Templars die. All of them."

"That's Alistair!" the man beside him exclaims. "Why would you hurt Alistair?"

I blink, confused. "Why _wouldn't _I hurt him? Why wouldn't I hurt you? You're Templars. They all must die."

"But...it's Alistair! Doesn't that mean something to you?"

"Should it?" I ask.

"Pfft, yeah!" The brown-haired man scoots around to face me. "What about me? Do you-"

My sword seems to burn my hand and I recoil, throwing it away from me. My hand bursts into gold light and I scream, holding it against my chest.

"_You were told to remain neutral!_"

I double over and fall to my knees. "I'm sorry! I didn't know-"

"_You knew all along that you were not to take a side!_"

"What do you want from me?! I'm only human! I can't be perfect! I'm not going to be neutral forever! Didn't the Guardian tell me to make Thedas understand mages? Didn't he speak for you? How am I supposed to do that if I don't help my kind?!"

The voice is silent for a long while, but my hand still glows gold and the eye still burns. "_Be what the Templars were supposed to be. Do what they feel they cannot._" The voice pauses, almost like He's sighing. "_Reform the Templars._"

Then the light fades, taking the pain with it. I exhale heavily, leaning forward so far that my forehead touches the ground.

"That was...incredible," Leliana says.

"That was the Maker, wasn't it?" Hawke asks.

"It was. And He's not happy with me." I lean back, taking a deep, shaky breath. I look at Alistair. "I...I'm sorry. I understand if you can't forgive me."

The blond man snorts, smirking. "Get these chains off me and maybe I'll feel inclined to."

I get to my feet, helping him and the others up before I start undoing these weird-ass knots. I end up using magic to snap them, and then Anders, Hawke, and the girl do the same.

"So...reforming the Templars?" Anders asks.

"Sounds like fun," Miranda says, rubbing her wrists as they walk up to me. I shrug and go to respond, but she continues. "I'm in."

Anders crosses his arms. "I'm not sure if you want a possessed mage backing you up, but if you'll have me, I'll help."

"I don't want-"

"Elissa, you told us what the Guardian said to you at the temple," Leliana says, rubbing her wrists. "The Maker wants the mages to be equals. He does not want Thedas fearing His children. And...I am sure four people is not enough to do that."

"Six is a start," Aedan says, nodding.

"I...I don't want to make a whole army, though," I say, shaking my head. "I've done that one too many times already, and it ended with me killing an Archdemon and becoming a hero. I don't want the attention I get now. If we do this, we're asking for our faces to be plastered across every nation in Thedas. We won't be welcome anywhere. People will cry for our blood. And to even make a point, we'll need followers. Lots of them. I can't ask that many people to ruin their lives for me."

"He's asking you to make the Chantry what it should be," Leliana says. "A haven for anyone and everyone, not what it has become."

"But how am I supposed to do that?!" I demand. I shake my head, cutting off the conversation. "Never mind that. We still have a renegade mage here."

"Search the bodies," Hawke says. "I'll deal with this."

I'm more than happy to let her do the talking to go search Templars. I go to the Knight first, checking his pockets and his pouch on his belt. I pull out various trivial things, tossing them aside, when I find an envelope. I recognize the seal of the Divine and tear it open without thinking.

"I found something!" I say, looking over my shoulder. Anders has vanished, but the others are still here. I run it down to Hawke while she talks to the mage girl, telling her to flee Kirkwall. "You should go to Ferelden. They, uh...they're supportive of apostates."

Aedan snaps his fingers, exclaiming, "That's it!" He gets to his feet and pulls me aside, looking very, very excited. "To redo the Templars, we'll need to redo the Chantry, like Leliana said. And the best place to start would be the place where the people support the idea." He grins and for some reason, it transfers to my own face. "The people of Denerim know about you, and many support you. Almost all of the Highever soldiers would support you, too. Don't you see? If we did this in Ferelden first, we'd already have one of the largest nations in Thedas supporting us!" He's practically bouncing with excitement and I find it very amusing, but I still take my brother seriously. He just made a really good point. "You wouldn't need to get people in an army to fight the Chantry until we were done with Ferelden, and by then, thousands would stand behind you!"

"Aedan, you are a genius," I say.

His grin broadens. "Well, we're twins, right? I'm as smart as you are."

The more I think about it, the better it seems. I have a lot of influence in Ferelden, possibly even more than Anora herself. I come from a very powerful family, I saved the country from the Blight, and whether I'm willing to admit it or not, I'm a people person...usually.

Then I realize something. The whole issue with his idea.

"But I need to be here," I say. "I...I'm supposed to keep Hawke alive, Aedan. I can't go to Ferelden until I'm sure she's safe. And I have to help Anders do...whatever he's doing."

He pauses, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Then his eyes widen and his grin returns. "Watch this." He looks past me and I follow his gaze to Leliana. But he doesn't say anything. He just watches her search the Templars, mouth hanging open.

I clear my throat awkwardly before I reach up and snap his jaw shut. He starts, smacking out at me. I bend backwards, laughing. Aedan scowls.

"Elissa! I found something you might want to see!" Alistair yells. Aedan calms himself immediately while I run up the steps, turning towards Alistair's voice.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Just...come look," he says, gesturing to the doorway. I hand him the envelope I'm still holding while I step past, eyes wide. "There's a...a record book on the table."

"Get Leliana. Now."

"Why?"

"Because I want to know why my Wardens are lying dead in a Templar cell." I look back at him, seeing the pain in his eyes. "Why would Kirkwall Templars have Fereldan Wardens?"

His eyes widen in horror. "Because they know you."

* * *

><p>Leliana has her contacts scouring the city and the surrounding caves and fields for any signs of Wardens. Aedan is asking around the bazaar to see if anyone has seen a Nevarran Warden lately. If that Templar, Alrik, was trying to get more information about me out of my friends, he'd have gone after Cyrus too.<p>

I hand Isabela a note. "Get that to Amaranthine for me."

"Don't you think Varric would be better suited for sneaking a letter across Kirkwall?"

"Perhaps," I say. "But you were three feet away."

She hesitates before nodding. "I'll, uh...I'll get it out by tomorrow."

"Thanks," I say. I start to walk back upstairs, but she calls me back, and I find myself walking over to the bar again. "What?"

"Are you okay?"

I snort, raising an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were made of stone." She rolls her eyes, taking another drink from her...whatever that is. "I don't know. Why?"

"You just look like you could use some fun."

"I don't do fun anymore." I wave off whatever she's about to say, turning away. "But thanks for asking. And...let me know if you need my help."

"You got it, Glowy."

"Maker, I hate that dwarf."

The pirate chuckles while I drag myself upstairs, not sparing a glance at the resident Seekers. I turn down the hall, leaning on the door to Alistair and me's room. He's sleeping already, but I don't have it in me to lay down just yet. So I throw off my weapons and armor, sitting on the floor next to my pack. I carried that everywhere with me since the Blight. I've gotten sentimental. Over a leather bag that can carry a book and seven potions at the most. Oh well. It got the one thing I needed across the Waking Sea and I'm happy with that.

For the first time, I pull out the leather bound journal Morrigan left me. I remember that day. Long, exhausting, and upsetting. Talith, who had ended up becoming a friend despite being the Knight-Captain, followed someone I'll never understand through a mirror and vanished. We spent a month tracking her down only to gain little from finding her. I have yet to decide if the cryptic answers she gave me were worth anything. Stuck between the pages is the necklace and lyrium I took with it, reflecting the candlelight beside me.

_I still don't like that, _Hope says.

"It keeps the nightmares away," I whisper. "I...I don't hear the darkspawn when it's nearby. It makes me...it makes me normal almost."

_It's magic, _Hope says. _The bad kind. _

"I've had it since we found Morrigan. It hasn't hurt me or anyone else who touches it yet."

_That's because you haven't let anyone not a Warden near it. _

"Nor will I ever," I say, setting it in my pack. I settle against the wall before opening the journal on my lap.

_Do not make the mistake of trusting my mother. Ever. You serve a human god. She serves someone else. _

_-Morrigan _

I close it right there, deciding I'm not in the mood for her. I could use a little less of the Witch of the Wilds.

Alistair groans, whispering something in an agitated tone. I look up, concerned. He tosses and turns on the bed, muttering unintelligibly. Then he bolts upright, sweating.

"What's wrong?" I ask, getting up and sitting beside him. He looks around wildly before he sees me, and then he grabs me, pulling me against his chest. I yelp, surprised, but I don't pull away. "Alistair?"

"I'm sorry," he says, hiding his face in my hair. "I...I was having a nightmare. I thought that...that the Archdemon killed you." He lets me go, looking down at me. "How long have you been in here?"

"Ten minutes," I say, rubbing my arm.

"And I didn't wake up when you took your armor off?" I shake my head. "Did you look through my stuff?"

"Uh...no...? Why would I?"

"No reason," he says, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He goes over to the dresser and takes something off it, hiding it in a drawer. "I'm moving it, so don't even get the idea."

I smirk at him. "I'm faster than you. And I wake up earlier."

"I'll get up first this time," he says, crossing his arms over his bare chest. "I'll make sure of it."

I raise an eyebrow as I get to my feet. "Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?"

He grins, walking over to me. "Bet you won't-" He lifts me up into his arms and I yelp again, eyes widening. "-see it coming."

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Me? I'm going nowhere," he says, carrying me over to the door. He opens it and sets me on my feet. "Not yet. Wait here."

"Can I have my boots?"

Alistair raises an eyebrow. "No." Then he shuts the door behind him and the lock clicks. He rustles around a bit before rejoining me, giving me my boots. I pull them on, glaring, but he just laughs. "Come on." He grabs my hand and pulls me after him. "You'll enjoy it; I promise."


	7. A Proposal

Alistair leads me out of the calming city, taking me towards the Wounded Coast. The sun has almost completely set when we finally come into a sandy path. Shrubs, mostly dead ones, line the path, covering it with dead leaves and branches.

"I don't know what you're planning on doing out here, but it's not very romantic."

"It gets better," Alistair says.

"If we get stuck out in the dark, I'm going to kill you," I say, climbing over the rock he disappeared behind. I slide down the smooth side, jogging to catch up to him. He fiddles with something in his pocket and I start getting curious. Very curious. What did he want to do that he had to drag me all the way out here for?

"Have you decided when we're going to Highever?" Alistair asks, looking down at me. I shrug and shake my head, staring at his eyes. I try to figure out what's going on in his head, but he keeps himself blank. "Why not? I'm sure Fergus would love to see you."

"Because we need to watch Miranda."

"Sometimes you need to forget about what you're told to do," he says, ducking under a patch of vines. I follow him under, finding him waiting with a hand extended.

I take it and he pulls me after him. I don't know how he can see where he's going; he led me into a dark, damp, creepy cave. I slip several times, but he keeps his footing, helping me up and catching me when he can.

"Some days I wonder how I ended up with you," I grumble one such time. He laughs, picking me up like he did at the Hanged Man.

"Because you had no options?" Alistair asks.

I snort, wrapping my arms around his chest. "I could've always gone with Zev. He'd have been more than happy."

"Zev would've been happy with Aedan."

"Don't judge people," I say, looking up at him.

"I'm not judging him," Alistair says. "I was just pointing out that Zevran likes everybody."

"Zevran is also an Antivan," I mutter, putting my head back on his shoulder.

"Yeah, remind me never to go to Antiva," Alistair says, smiling faintly.

"It's okay. I'll make sure you keep your virtue."

He raises an eyebrow. "Virtue? What virtue? You stole it all."

"I can't believe you just said that," I say, laughing.

"I did," he says, chuckling. "So believe it, lady."

"You're being so weird."

He just laughs as he steps out onto a beach. A small, hidden strip of sand that's twenty feet wide at the most. He walks closer to the shoreline, stopping when he's ankle-deep in the water. "Guess what."

"What?"

"See ya!" And with that, he throws me into the water. I yelp as the cold water washes over me, shivering as I get to my feet. "Cold?"

"Oh, I hate you," I say, rubbing my upper arms to warm them up.

"Do you now?"

I start walking up to him through the waist-deep water I'm in. It's almost perfectly clear; I can see down to my knees before it gets too murky. He walks closer to me, crossing his arms to hide his shivering. When he reaches me, the water is up to my knees, and I stand up on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Yes I do," I whisper, grinning. I pull him down into the water after me, laughing.

We fall back with a splash and he lands on top of me, pulling me out of the water. "You sneaky, sneaky lady."

"I'm not a sneaky witch-thief?" I blow water off my lips, wiping my hair from my face.

"Hmm," he says, looking at me thoughtfully. "You could be."

My jaw drops. "You just-"

Alistair grins. "You're sneaky. You're a mage, a female mage. Technically, a witch."

"So how am I a thief?" I ask, crossing my arms.

He suddenly blushes, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "You uh...you..." He clears his throat and it takes all of my self-control to not laugh. "You stole...my...heart?" Then he flinches, face reddening even more.

"That was actually very sweet," I say, smiling. "And amusing. And cheesy."

"Hey, I love cheese. What did you expect?" He gets to his feet and helps me up, taking me back to the sand. He sits beside a bag he brought, patting the sand beside him. I sit, scooting closer to warm up.

"You better have a blanket in that thing," I say as he opens it.

"Yep," he says, pulling one out. He throws one end over my shoulders and the other over his own. "See? Not a bad way to spend your evening."

"If it were anyone else I was here with, it would be," I say, leaning on him. "You're lucky I like you. If anyone else had thrown me in that water, I would've killed them."

"You come out to beaches with other men often?" Alistair asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, yes," I say, snorting. "Obviously."

"Then what was the point of me bringing you out here?" he asks, reaching into his pocket again. "If you have so many other men lined up?"

"Lined up? Lined up for what?"

He rolls his eyes. "Maker, you're so blind sometimes."

"Hey!"

Alistair laughs, shaking his head. He flings little droplets of water everywhere, dampening the blanket further. "Leliana and Aedan said you'd be this...surprised."

"Surprised? Why would I be-"

"Stop talking for a minute and you'll see why, okay?" I huff, making him smirk. He sighs though and his face turns red all over again. Alistair clears his throat before pulling his hand out of his pocket. "Look, I know you're a mage. I know there's no way in hell any Chantry would agree to letting us do this, so..." He unfolds his hand and my jaw drops. "I've loved you for the last five years, Elissa, and I've never had the chance to ask, or to think about it, or to even wonder how someone gets the courage to ask a question like this. But here I am, stuck in the middle of another mess with you, and I can't help but love you more and more everyday. You always do something that makes me love you more. You're so devoted to doing what you've been ordered to do that you don't even realize when you do something spectacular." He rubs his neck again, still blushing. "And um, you're the most wonderful person I've ever met in my entire life. I know this isn't the greatest time to be asking, considering what's going on in Kirkwall, but..." He looks so nervous, so flustered, that I find it adorable. I don't know how I couldn't. Everything he says, does, likes, makes me realize just how lucky I am.

"Will you marry me?"

I knew where he was going. The ring in his hand said it all. But the shock still slams into me like a ton of bricks. For the longest time, I always thought I'd end up married to some nobleman I'd never even met until the wedding itself. Then my parents arranged a marriage with one of Howe's sons, and when that didn't work, with Bann Teagan. I worked my way out of that one just before Aedan and I joined the Wardens. I found Alistair while I was broken and ready to just give up, and he pulled everything back together despite suffering the loss of his friends in the Wardens. We stumbled into each other's lives, but I still caught myself falling in love with him anyway. He's had my back through everything.

How could I say no?


	8. Talk About Sudden

Aedan follows Leliana down into Darktown for a meeting with one of her contacts. They twist and turn through side streets and alleys, feeling very much like they're underground again. Aedan glances up, shuddering at the sight of a ceiling when he wants open air. All he can do is silently thank the Maker Leliana feels the same way he does and has her meetings out by the railings near Anders' clinic. Some sunlight would do him good, but it's dark now, and he wonders what happened to Alistair and Elissa.

"Think Alistair got the guts to ask?" Aedan asks Leliana as they walk.

"Most likely," the Orlesian replies.

"She'd be stupid to say no," Aedan says. "I'd like to have a nice family full of heretics." Leliana thwacks his shoulder, causing him to laugh. "I'm joking."

"Yes," she says absentmindedly, walking up to an elf. It takes Aedan a moment, but then he recognizes the blonde, horned elf. Theorn. He's still in his strange robes, still covered in mud, and his staff still looks like nothing more than a gnarled branch.

"He's your contact?!" Aedan demands.

"Obviously," Leliana says, sighing in exasperation. "Honestly, Aedan, sometimes you are thicker than your sister."

The Warden scowls at her back as she calls out to the apostate. He turns to them, blue eyes clear. Good. No creepy prophecies.

"Sister Nightingale," Theorn says, swooping low in a bow.

"What?" Aedan asks.

Leliana waves him off, stopping alongside the railing. Theorn leans against it, staring out at the water rushing beneath Kirkwall with a slightly sad expression on his face. "I need a favor," Leliana says.

"Why else would you ask for my help?" Theorn says, flicking a fleck of dirt off the wood.

"Because I trust you."

He snorts, looking down before turning back to his former companions. "Trust is a fickle thing, Leliana. You give it willingly, flaunting it about as if it's something to be played with." Aedan glances at his wife, raising an eyebrow, but she ignores the comment. "Anyway, the favor?"

"We found Fereldan Wardens murdered in a Templar lair earlier today," she says.

"Friends of the Forgotten?"

Aedan still has no clue why he calls Elissa that.

"Yes," Leliana says. "All of them."

Theorn nods, smoothing his white shirt sleeve. "Ser Alrik, yes? A man planning to make all mages in the Free Marches Tranquil?"

"Er...yes," she says. "How do you know about that?"

"Truth be told, I was here to see why the Fereldan Wardens were flocking here," Theorn says. "They've been coming to Kirkwall for months now. The few that remain in Ferelden are scrambling for recruits."

"Have you found anything?"

He shakes his head. "At first I thought you might be asking for their assistance with something. But then I realized the Warden-Commander wouldn't be scrambling as he is for more men if he thought they'd come back. So I came here to investigate. From what I understand, the Templars, Ser Alrik in particular, are working with a group of people calling themselves the Faithful." He looks Aedan directly in the eye. "I assume you see where this is going?"

"We have people out there trying to kill us," he says. "Again."

"Yes," Theorn says, nodding again. "The Faithful are mainly comprised of Kirkwall nobles that avidly disapprove of the four of you. In an attempt to get more information, they've started working with 'True Templars', and Ser Alrik made the suggestion of getting people you are close to and interrogating them."

"Does Meredith support this?"

"As far as I know, neither her or Cullen are aware of what their Templars are doing," the elf says. "If you need me, don't hesitate to ask. I'd be more than willing to help you solve this issue."

Leliana nods. "We should talk with Elissa and Alistair first."

"Of course," Theorn says, bowing his head. "You know how to reach me. I'll be here."

"Thanks, Theorn," Aedan says as Leliana drags him back up towards Lowtown. She pulls him full-circle so he's walking in the right direction, and then yanks him into a thin, cramped alley. His armor scrapes on the stone walls, screeching, but she ignores it, tugging him along by his hand. "Uh...Leliana?"

Aedan suddenly feels very, very cramped. His heart races, but he fights it with every fiber of his being.

She looks back at him. "You really are twins."

Aedan coughs, saying, "What?"

"Elissa does not like tight spaces either," Leliana says, pulling him further.

"Oh."

"Keep moving," she says. "And do not look back."

"Why not?" Aedan doesn't listen though. His eyes widen and his jaw drops. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

"Because I did not want you to panic!"

"Well I'm panicking now! Go!" Aedan exclaims, pushing her onward. She yelps, catching herself on the wall before twisting to the side to continue. Aedan follows suit, using her hand to guide him further so he can watch their pursuers.

* * *

><p>"Where's my brother?" I ask, sliding onto the stool beside Isabela.<p>

She shrugs, downing another pint. "Do I look like an Aedan-keeper? No, but I'll tell you what I do know."

"Er...no, thanks," I say.

"You're always saying how if we need help to just ask," Isabela says. "I'm asking, and I'm not happy about it."

"So...what is it, then?"

"Hawke told you about Castillon, right?" I nod, drumming my fingers together in a rhythm off the bar. "I got a lead, but she has her...hands full right now, and I'd appreciate it if you could come with me."

"I'll need more to go on than that."

The pirate laughs, waving for another pint. When Corff asks, she holds up two fingers. "You're buying, Glowy." I just shrug, still drumming my fingers. "So I need you to come with me to this warehouse on the Docks. Should be quick and easy."

"Like you?" I ask, smirking faintly.

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, haha the Cousland made a funny." I raise an eyebrow.

"I thought it was pretty good."

Isabela laughs, nodding. "It was! I was just teasing. Lighten up." I watch her carefully as she takes a swig of her new drink after Corff sets then down in front of us. I hardly know her, yet here I am, offering my help like it's something to be flaunted. For all I know, she could be trying to get me where she can literally stab me in the back.

Hawke trusts her. That's good enough for me.

"What are we looking for, exactly?"

Isabela smiles, patting my shoulder. "Don't worry about that. I'll know it when I see it."

I had gone to take a drink while she was talking, but I pause with the mug halfway up. I look at her, raising an eyebrow. "Do you not trust me enough to tell me?"

"I hardly know you," she says. "Don't trust anybody, not even a lover. That's my philosophy, anyway."

"Uh-huh," I say suspiciously.

"Do you trust Alistair? Aedan? Leliana, the one who is never around when she probably should be?"

"I haven't noticed that."

"You're avoiding the question. Do you trust them or not?"

"Of course I do!" I exclaim, slapping the mug down on the bar furiously. "How could I not? Aedan's my twin, for Maker's sake!"

Isabela snorts, shaking her head. The bangles in her hair jingle with the motion as she gulps down a rather long drink. "I don't trust anybody, friend or family. No one deserves it. Everyone is as bad as the next person. Even people like you and Anders, who only intend to help. You help one person, there's a good chance you're harming someone else by doing it." She glances at me, smiling sadly. "I wouldn't trust Alistair, Leliana, or Aedan if I were you. Leliana's too sneaky for my tastes. Alistair is too innocent. Aedan...I'm not even sure how to say it."

"I trust them with my life," I snap, gulping down a drink in my annoyance. I regret it instantly; it feels like fire is being poured down my throat. I know the ale here is horrible, but it's never done this before. I blink rapidly, coughing, as the burn spreads to my lungs from my stomach. Isabela looks at me, concern etched on her features, but I wave her off, starting to my feet. The moment I put my weight on my legs, my knees buckle. The fire rips its way through my body, burning, burning, tearing.

Panic hits me like a wall. Where's Alistair?! Upstairs. I just need to get there and-

"What's wrong?" Isabela asks, crouching beside me.

What _is _wrong with-

"Poison," I cough. I manage to push myself up and into a corner, gasping for air. "Find...Aedan and Leliana. Get...get Alistair. Please!"

The pirate hesitates before nodding, jumping to her feet. I faintly hear her shouting for Varric to get Anders while she runs towards our room where Alistair has probably passed out.

"Oh, Maker!" I look up to the voice, eyes barely able to focus on the man before me. "Your friend said something about the healer in Darktown?" I just blink, fighting every urge my body cries. It tells me to scream, to hit this stranger, to kill him, but I can't even move. "Here, let me help you."

I start to protest as he pulls me to my feet, but the world sways beneath my feet and comes at me in a rush.

* * *

><p>Theorn watches his friends go before turning and walking deeper into the Undercity. Another like him, possibly the only other, an elf with black hair that sticks up in odd angles like spikes, falls in beside him.<p>

"Zarlyn," Theorn says. "Have you been watching the Forgotten?"

The man nods, leaning on his staff. "Aye, my friend."

"And?"

"And the men you were just informing your friends of have struck," Zarlyn says. "I didn't have the chance to catch him, but she was talking with the pirate while they waited for drinks, and while the barkeeper was filling another mug, the blood mage slipped something into her drink. When she took a drink, the poison kicked in and he took her."

Theorn sighs. "I'll find her. You go find the Warden and the Orlesian before they can take them as well."

"What of the blonde Warden? Alistair?"

"I'll check on him. Go."

The leather-clad warrior nods, running back the way Theorn came. The elf watches his old friend go, expression saddening.

The time has come. He must confront the Witch of the Wilds.


	9. Panic

_I'm sorry, but Leliana comes off as a hugger in Origins. Elissa has 'hugger tendencies', so you all can deal with it. Take the sisterly hugs and love them all! Lol._

"This is your fault!" Hawke screams furiously. I flinch, the guilt hurting more than I thought it ever could. "I don't want to see you ever again! Stay away from me!"

Maker, what have I done?

_Three Hours Earlier_

As I come to, I wince, holding my head. I feel like I got drunk when in all actuality, I got poisoned. Because getting drunk is too nice.

"Elissa?" I blink rapidly as I try to sit up, but a hand pushes me down. "Rest. It's just me."

"Leliana? Where are we?"

"In some asshole's lair," Aedan grumbles from somewhere beyond in the dark. "Stupid blood mages. He had a group of guards under his influence chase us through Darktown earlier. Maybe yesterday. I don't know."

"Has anything happened?"

"Sometime ago we could hear a woman screaming, but then it stopped," my brother says. "Was Alistair with you?"

"No," I say. "He was sleeping after we got back from the Coast." I hesitate before asking, "Do you think he's okay?"

"Probably," Aedan says.

"Guards came through an hour or so ago, complaining that the other Warden was aware of what was going on and had been forced into hiding," Leliana says.

"Forced?"

"Yes," she says. "We were coming to tell you that there's a group of nobles in the city that feel we have overstayed our welcome. They were working with Ser Alrik and his Templars to remove us."

"But since we've managed to avoid them for this long, they decided 'Hey, why don't we just take Elissa's Wardens? Maybe they'll know more ways to get them!' and Alrik had them tortured and killed in his little Templar hideout we were at with Hawke," Aedan says. "Now here we are. Leliana and I were chased into a dead end."

"How did they get you?" Leliana asks.

I shake my head although they can't see it. "Poison. I was talking with Isabela and my drink was laced with it."

"Poison?!" Aedan demands. "Are you all right?"

"I...I think so," I say.

_I've blocked it off for now, _Hope says. _You will require healing or an antidote soon, or you will die._

"More or less," I amend. "It would be best if we got out of here now, though." I look back in Leliana's direction. "But Alistair was forced into hiding?"

"I said that."

"You didn't explain it. Who forced him to hide?"

"Theorn, most likely," she says. "He was the one who told us about the Faithful."

The name clicks and my head snaps up. "The Faithful? That's what the cultists at Haven called themselves."

"Well, someone has taken their name and is now using it against us."

"Obviously," I say, rolling to my feet. "We need to get out of here."

"That is impossible," Leliana mutters in a frustrated tone. "There is no light."

"I'm a mage," I retort, casting a spell as I say it. A small ball of light bursts to life just an inch above my hand, illuminating our tiny cell. "Hmm. Brings back the memories, right?"

Leliana snorts. "If you count being thrown into a jail a good memory."

"I found my mother alive in that jail," I say. "I sort of do." I raise the light up, spinning in a circle. The blue casts strange shapes on what little I can see. Our cell is small, almost unbearably so, but then there's a hallway and a barred door, and I can't see much past it. "Think you can pick that lock?"

"I could, but I have no tools to do so."

"Wait, let me check my pockets. I usually have some picks kept hidden there."

"Because that is always a good place to hide them."

"Hey, when you run around with a hundred and fifty pounds of armor and weapons on with a pack, they just assume you always use the pack. Hence my pockets." I pat my legs, searching, when I grin triumphantly and put the light back up as I dig them from my pocket. I hand the three I carry to Leliana and follow her to the cell door, holding the blue light where it can help. She sets to work picking it as quietly as humanly possible while I just stand here, hoping that no one will hear.

"Someone's coming!" Aedan whispers furiously.

"Shit," I say, squeezing my fist. The light explodes in a puff and Leliana hands me my picks, leaping away from the cell door. I move back to the spot I was in earlier, lying back down in the exact position I woke in. On my stomach, facing the hallway.

Faintly, I hear footsteps approaching and I only close my eyes halfway, straining to see. As the boots draw closer, so does a light, and I force myself to close my eyes completely. The boots soon turn into several pairs, three at the most, and they stop in front of Leliana and I's cell.

"Still not up yet?" a guard asks as he unlocks the door. "Hmm. That could be fun."

"Do not come near us," Leliana snaps.

I hear the door swing open and I tense my muscles, flattening my hands as slowly as possible. The guards chuckle and the one that spoke speaks again. "Quentin demands that you be taken to him."

A hand grabs my upper arm, but I roll away, pulling the guard to the floor in a crash. I flip to my feet and lunge for the nearest sword I can see, passing it off to Leliana the moment I get my hands on it. As the guard I pulled down gets to his feet, he reaches for the stolen weapon, but realizing it is gone, decides to beat me. Or at least try to. I freeze him on the spot and slip past, wrapping my arm around one of the other guards' neck. He coughs, sputtering for air, but I hold my ground while Leliana tries to best the man with the torch. They fight and he manages to get past her defenses, cutting her side. She yelps, falling back against the wall, leaving me two options. Kill this guy and let the other kill her, my best friend, or release this idiot and kill the man trying to kill her. I don't see why that's even a question in my mind. Throwing the man I was suffocating aside, I reach for the guard with the torch, grabbing his wrist. I yank it back and pull his shoulder from his socket in the same motion, causing him to drop his sword. He cries out in pain, but I grab his sword and drive it through his chest, silencing him permanently. The final one is coughing as he draws his weapon, barely having the strength to lift it. I feel horrible about finishing him off, but I do, and then I drop my stolen weapon, going to Leliana's side.

She's slumped to the floor and dropped the sword I'd gotten for her. She's holding her side, breathing gone ragged, face pale. Her shirt is red, so ridiculously red I start to doubt it is only a cut. And when I pry her fingers from her side, I see just how totally wrong I was. From where I was standing, it looked like he only clipped her. No, he didn't. He full-on got her, just barely missing anything vital with the stab.

Leliana's eyes close while I examine the wound, and I see her chest stop moving.

"No!" I exclaim, covering the bloody hole in her stomach instantly. "Dammit, woman, you are _not _dying on me!"

"What?!" Aedan demands.

I ignore him, sending waves of healing energy through my hands. My hands glow with the extent of mana I pump through her body, and I apparently go so far with it in my panic that I even fix her shirt.

And she still doesn't move. That's when the panic bursts into fear, blinding fear that I'm about to watch someone I love die because I couldn't protect them. I totally freak out, ransacking everything I know about healing for any ideas, any way I can make this right. If I lost Leliana, I wouldn't be able to look at myself. This is my fault. I _have _to make her heart start again.

I grab her shoulder and pull her to the floor, blasting anything near me away with a simple spell. I find that little hidden patch of mana and I pull everything I have from it as I place my hands over her heart. I swear to the Maker, if this doesn't work, I'm going to drop out from everything right now. I am not losing my sister.

I remember how Anders did it that one day in his clinic, and I force myself to copy it instead of just jolting her with everything I've got. Most mages have tiny backup stores. Mine is huge, and if I'm not careful, I could very well revive and kill her again in the span of two seconds. So I force my spell to move slow in waves, sending lightning straight into her chest every five seconds. It takes me several minutes to completely drain myself of mana, and even by then, she's still not breathing.

"No, please," I beg. "Come on! Breathe, dammit!" I find the last little bit of mana I have, barely enough to even cast the spell again, but I do, shocking her with the largest tendril so far.

And still, nothing.

My eyes widen as I sit back, completely spent, and I start crying, unable to help it. I just stare at her lifeless face as the realization hits me. Leliana is dead, and it is my fault. All my fault. I should've gotten her another sword. I should've stuck to her side, something, anything!

This is my fault. I...I let her die.

Someone coughs and my head snaps up, eyes widening.

"Thank the Maker!" I exclaim, throwing my arms around the Orlesian. She yelps in surprise, wincing.

"What are you so worried about?" Leliana asks, trying to pry me off her. "And why are you crying?"

"Because you were dead!" I say, letting her go. "I...I thought I lost you!"

"I...I died?" Her face says she's confused, but her eyes widen. "He killed me." She blinks, eyes huge with horror. "Then how...?" Leliana looks up at me before hugging me just as fiercely as I'd hugged her. "Thank you."

I laugh weakly. "Can't just let my sister die, can I?"

"You could have," she whispers, releasing me. "It would have been much easier."

"That doesn't mean I should've," I say, getting to my feet. I help her up, noticing the wince of pain that escapes her. "If that keeps bothering you, tell me." She nods as she uses the torchlight to search the guard that had had the keys. I collect their swords while she does that, giving her one before going to search the dimly lit hall. I cast my light spell with the mana that has regenerated, sliding one of the weapons into Aedan's cell.

"Is Leliana okay?" he asks.

"She's fine," I say. "Give her a minute and she'll unlock your cell."

He nods grimly, climbing to his feet. I continue on toward the way the guards came from, holding the light out and up. It does a very poor job of illuminating the hallway, but it gives off more light than that torch does, so I keep moving as I hear Leliana free Aedan. I hold my sword down at my side as I come upon a door. I extinguish my light as I nudge it open. The room is well-lit, but empty. Various forms of equipment are scattered and a pack is thrown over and ransacked. I recognize most of the stuff here as mine, Leliana's, or Aedan's. I waste little time in getting back in my armor, repacking my pack, and hunting down my weapons. It feels good to have the familiar weight of my sword on my hip again, but even better to have my quiver on my back.

I flex my fingers through the glove I keep on my left hand, enjoying the sensation of the metal rolling over my knuckles.

"Found our stuff?" Aedan asks from the doorway.

"Yep," I say. I look back to see him supporting Leliana, but she looks no worse for the wear; thank the Maker. "I'll watch the other door. Get ready to head out." Then I move across the room to the indicated door; the one I can only assume leaders further into this blood mage's hideout. I open it, checking for any guards before I close it and slap an arrow on my bowstring. I back up five feet or so and settle in to watch. I ignore the rustling of armor behind me.

_I will not be able to hold the poison off much longer, _Hope says urgently.

_We'll be out of here before you know it, _I assure the spirit. I look over my shoulder while Aedan helps Leliana get her leathers on. He's ready to go, but it's obvious she's having some difficulties.

I hear the door open and I whip, barely giving myself the chance to register it's one of the guards before I fire my arrow. The broadhead tears through his neck and he crumples in a spurt of blood. I hear someone behind him cry out in surprise and slam the door shut, so I take my chance to drag the nearest table to where I was standing before I flip it. I crouch behind the table, barely peeking up to aim my bow. As the door opens again, I fire another arrow into the next guard. He falls into the door, revealing the empty hallway behind him. I wait a few seconds before I get to my feet and drag the bodies inside and shut the door.

"The table?" Aedan asks incredulously. "Really? Isn't that a bit of overkill, sis?"

"How was I supposed to know there'd only be two?" I retort. I look to them. "Ready to go?" They nod and I lead the way out, another arrow ready for firing. My skin starts tingling as we go, but not like it does when I sense darkspawn. More like when I get too close to a blood mage and its cronies. Its undead cronies to be exact. "Today already went from good to bad. Now it's going from bad to worse."

Aedan snorts from behind me. "Why's that?"

"I was having a nice day with Alistair and a sort of nice chat with Isabela. Then I ended up here, where there's a blood mage with undead pals running about." I shudder as I start sensing something new. "And demons."

Aedan huffs in annoyance. "Least I got my sword."

My eyes narrow and I hold up a hand for them to stop, going on alone. I heard something, but I'm not sure what. I want to check it out alone just in case. Just in case what, though, I'm not sure.

I ease open the next door only to see dead guards and walking corpses and skeletons lying scattered over the floor. I whistle back to Aedan for him and Leliana to come up while I step out into the large chamber.

"Dear Maker!" I jump, whipping around to aim my bow at the speaker. I recognize Hawke instantly and lower my arm, sighing. "We've been looking all over for you! Have you seen my mother?"

I blink. "No. Why would Leandra be here?"

"You mean you aren't here looking for her?" Hawke asks. I shake my head in response. "So you have no clue where she is?" I shake my head again and she curses. "We spent all day following Emeric's leads yesterday, and I came home to find my mother taken by the same damn killer I've been looking for! Not to mention you and the other three practically dropped off the face of Thedas when I came looking for your help!"

"Uh...well, the three of us aren't here by choice," I say. "But I'll explain that later. You said you're looking for Leandra? Then let's find her."

Hawke nods enthusiastically, turning and jogging back to where her friends are waiting. Anders, Aveline, and Isabela.

"Glad to see you're still breathing, Glowy," Isabela whispers as the three of us join them.

I snort out a laugh. "Me too."

_You won't be for much longer! _Hope snarls.

I ignore her, following Hawke as she jogs down a set of stairs. The six of us spend more time looking around than we do listening to her talk to some crazed mage thirty feet away.

Blood mage.

"You know not what you harbor!" he shouts. "Two of your friends are abominations, yet you come here to deprive me of my wife?!"

"She's my mother!" Hawke retorts furiously.

"No matter!" he yells.

He casts a shield on himself as skeleton archers rise up from around him. I have an arrow fired off before the others can even blink, and I remind myself I need to stay back and watch Leliana. I don't have it in me to heal someone like that again. But looking past the skeletons and the others, I see Leandra, or something that closely resembles her.

"Elissa!" I whip around to face Aveline, but it was merely a warning. I duck under the sword, drawing and driving an arrow up into the undead's chest. I spin and drop to a knee, launching the same gore-encrusted arrow into another shambling corpse. The room erupts in fighting, but I do my best to stay back with Leliana while Aedan acts as a battering ram for Hawke and her companions. Leliana and I silently agree to kill anything approaching each other, and it works well for the both of us.

Until a Desire demon leaps from the ground from right under my feet. I scream as it passes through me and throws me back. My skin feels like it's burning.

Then I feel the poison returning. My stomach burns all over again, as does my throat. My head erupts in and headache in the span of two seconds and I collapse.

* * *

><p>I wake in Anders' clinic, my throat dry. I roll onto my side, coughing so hard I'm sure I'm going to hack up a lung, when he appears from the back room, expression dark.<p>

"You're lucky," he says, handing me a small cup with water in it. I take it gratefully, swallowing all of the contents in one gulp. I hand it back, but he just sets it aside. "Hawke kept her head long enough to get you here before she stormed off to Hightown."

"Why?" I ask. "What...happened after I blacked out?"

"To put it simply, Leandra is dead," Anders says. "And Miranda blames you." My eyes widen and I sit up, about to ask a question when he continues. "She wants you to go up to her estate immediately. Says it's important."

I barely manage a weak nod. "Of course. Thanks, Anders."

The apostate nods back as he retrieves my weapons for me. I equip them as I walk out and over to the ladder leading into her basement. I force myself to climb up it as fast as humanly possible without looking down, kicking the trapdoor shut with the heel of my foot. I walk upstairs where Bodahn greets me. Sandal is busy in the corner, seemingly playing with his enchanting materials. I say hello to him anyway as Bodahn waves me up into Hawke's room. Hearing something smash, I pick up my slow pace, knocking at her door once. I ease it open just far enough for me to poke my head in, but apparently that's all the more Hawke needs to see. A bottle comes flying at me and I duck, watching it sail out onto the sitting space. It shatters loudly as I look back to Hawke.

"Er...hello?"

"This is your fault," Hawke says, glaring at me.

"My fault?"

"If you had been there to heal her...if you'd never shown up here...maybe she'd still be alive!" Miranda exclaims furiously.

"I...I'm no better at healing than Anders," I say, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind me.

"You have a stronger spirit!" she yells. "You could've done something!"

"I-"

"This is your fault!" Miranda is either really drunk, or really, really stupid right now. But the guilt still stings. Maybe I could've done something to help...maybe...

"I'm sorry," I say, looking down at my feet.

"Get out," she snaps, sitting on her bed. "Get out and never bother me again." I start forward, but she leaps to her feet, pointing. "This is your fault! I don't ever want to see you again! Stay away from me!"

Sighing, I shake my head before doing as told.

"You're going to regret this."


	10. Drink Til We're Drunk

_So I passed over what happened after Alistair's proposal, but fear not fellow Alistair-lovers! Fluff is abound in this chapter! And...erm...smut. Better than the first time I wrote it because I've grown a pair and decided to just write it the right way. And let me tell you, I got all this from reading other stories. I'm a virgin, so take the awkwardness and like it. Feel free to review, too! Let me know how bad this is lol. Skip to the first break if that's not something you want to read. _

At first, I was tempted to just drink until I couldn't see straight. Then I thought about checking on Leliana and Aedan.

Then I saw Alistair waiting for me in the Hanged Man and any and all other thoughts flew out the window. His eyes lit up the instant he saw me walk into the tavern. I didn't even stop walking when I got near him. I grabbed his hand and pulled him up, dragging him upstairs after me. Now we're walking down the hall to our room, and it'd be a lot easier if he wasn't trying to get his hands on me. And if I wasn't trying to get mine on him. I'll be perfectly honest; I want him so badly I can't think of anything else right now. By the time we get down to our door, he's practically carrying me, and I can't even think straight. I'm not even sure which of us gets the door open. But I do know I'm the one smart enough to shut and lock it behind us. Not that it helps with him pushing me against it so he can finally kiss me.

That kiss makes my blood burn hot and my heart race. I can't get enough of him fast enough. His hands roam all over my body as he pushes against me, hungry for the contact. Everything about him and his touches makes me twitch and shake with desire. I can hardly think through the haze.

Alistair lifts me up and hooks my legs around his waist, moving his kisses to my neck.

"There's...a bed," I pant.

He laughs, pausing for only the briefest of moments. "There is." He sucks on the juncture of my neck and shoulder and I gasp, leaning over his shoulder. I bury my face in his neck, moaning with each kiss he gives me. "This needs to come off." He pulls at the clasp on my side for emphasis. "Now," he growls. He works at it, pulling at every single clasp on my torso until he can throw my chest piece aside. He never once stops kissing me, and I don't necessarily care. I want it off as much as he does, and I want his clothes off just as much. I pull his shirt over his head, revealing every single muscle he hides underneath. Just the sight of his torso makes me moan and he takes his opportunity, kissing me again and delving his tongue inside my mouth.

"Alistair-"

He pulls my shirt off and groans, pressing against me with a new force behind his desire. His lips trail kisses down to my collarbone while his hands throw my boots off before moving to my trousers. I feel him pushing against me and my hips buck into him. He bites into my shoulder, stifling his groan.

I push on his chest, somehow managing to say, "Bed."

He listens this time, getting a grip on my thighs before he pulls me off the door. He stumbles and we both laugh at his blindness. It takes him a few tries and me giving a few directions before he drops me unceremoniously onto our bed. He throws his trousers off as he crawls over me, pulling mine off too. It takes him all of four seconds to get a hand under my back and throw my breastband after them. Alistair plants a kiss on my stomach, slowly making his way up to my chest. My body starts shaking with anticipation, but then he just totally moves away, kissing me so hard my world spins. I feel him pulling the last of my smallclothes off, but that's far away. All that matters are his lips and his kiss. I twist my hands into his hair, reveling in how soft it is, when he buries himself inside of me. A moan rips out of my throat before I can stop it and he runs his tongue along mine, groaning.

He starts moving his hips and I raise my own to meet his thrusts, fire running through my veins. The pressure in my stomach builds and builds with each motion, but there's no end in sight. 'Grey Warden stamina', if you ask Morrigan about the ritual her and Aedan performed. Not that I have. We had some very strange conversations on our way through Denerim.

Alistair doesn't seem happy with that, though, and he wraps an arm around my waist, sitting up. He pulls me with him. I shudder and moan from the change in angle, and as I go to kiss him, he dips his head, pulling my nipple into his mouth. My eyes snap open and my back arches.

"Alistair...!"

He begins sucking as he thrusts up into me, groaning when I roll my hips to meet him. "Moan for me." His hands grab my hips as he slides back down, slamming me into a thrust with so much force I almost come undone. I throw my head back, moaning so loudly I'm sure someone downstairs could hear. He groans against me before he does it again. The feeling he creates is indescribable and it's so hard for me to hold myself together it's almost unbearable. I ball my hands up in his hair, pushing myself farther into his mouth and closer to his hips. His hands tighten on my waist before he pushes me back onto the bed, moving his kisses up to my collarbone. I still arch into them, enjoying each little press of his lips more than I thought possible.

As he goes to thrust again, he jerks my hips up and slams further into me than he has before. I almost scream with the pleasure from it; it feels so amazing. He covers my mouth with his own, swallowing any noises I make. Our tongues duel with each other in an elaborate dance when I feel the pressure build so high it becomes unbearable. I wrap myself around him, absorbing his next thrust with every fiber of my being. All of the feelings explode, bursting all over my body so suddenly I see stars. My muscles clamp down on him and he hits his release at the same time I do, groaning into my mouth. I shake all over as I come off my euphoric high, trembling from everything. Alistair slides off me and lays on his back, completely spent. I find that energy to curl against his side, so he wraps an arm around my shoulders, kissing me gently.

"I love you," he whispers, forehead pressed against mine.

"I love you too," I say, returning the kiss.

He sighs, stroking my hair. "I was worried about you."

"That's not a first," I say, wrapping an arm around his chest. I put my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. "But I'm tired. We can argue later."

"Who said I wanted to argue?" Alistair asks.

I ignore him. I don't want to argue with him just because he was worried about me. I don't want to fight with him, period. And I'm really tired, and his shoulder is a good pillow. It always has been and always will be, so I drift off with a stupid smile on my face. I faintly feel him press a kiss to the top of my head, but before I can even think of what I could do back, I'm asleep.

* * *

><p>By the time I wake up, Alistair's snoring. Loudly. I have no idea how that didn't wake me up. But he didn't, so I can't really complain. The one candle in the room has gone out, so I can only assume I was sleeping for a fairly long time. Guess I should get up.<p>

I throw my feet over the side of the bed, running a hand through my hair before I start hunting down my clothes. I pull them on quickly, leaving my boots where Alistair threw them. Then I sit on the floor next to my pack, staring up at the ceiling. I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe through my nose as I try to comprehend everything that's happened the past few days.

I'm engaged. The thought makes me laugh in disbelief even as I twist the ring on my finger around. I'm seriously engaged to someone. I don't believe it. I don't think I'll ever get past the shock, either. I always thought I'd end up married to someone my parents chose, and here I am, engaged to the man I love. I can't help the smile that breaks through. Alistair is the sweetest man I've ever met, Templar and all. And when he could've had anyone else, he chose me, the apostate Warden that's counted as an abomination. That sounds too ridiculous and I laugh, shaking my head.

That's not even the strangest thing that's happened all week, but it's the only good thing. I got poisoned and kidnapped by some blood mage, Hawke's mother died and she blames me, and now on top of it all, I have to watch her from a distance while trying to figure out which nobles want me dead. This is turning out to be a bigger mess than the Blight! At least with the Blight everything was straightforward. Go here, kill these things, get treaty, repeat. Now I'm getting caught up in assassination attempts on my life, watching my friends nearly die, and trying to do what the Maker demands. Not that I've gotten any new orders, exactly. Still the same. Fix the Chantry. Don't get killed.

I am such a busy person.

"Hello?" Someone knocks at the door. "You okay in there, Glowy?"

I roll my eyes, getting to my feet. I throw a blanket over Alistair and kick his clothes into the corner before I open the door. Look! My favorite dwarf and pirate.

"What?" I ask, rubbing my eyes.

"Ooh, did we interrupt?" Isabela asks excitedly.

"Uh, no," I say, stifling a yawn. "What did you want? Seriously. I'm trying to sleep."

She makes a pouty face. "You were supposed to help me get something from the Docks, remember?"

I nod. "I'll still help. Just not right now. I'm tired." She shrugs, grinning in a knowing manner. "Is that all you wanted?"

"Nope," she says brightly.

"Hawke won't be bothering us for some time yet for...obvious reasons," Varric says.

"So...we figured we'd have a little contest," Isabela says, smirking. "Merrill's going to join us regardless of what you say, but we figured we'd ask the resident Wardens if they wanted to get in on our drinking contest."

"Dear Maker," I mutter. "Is it really a good idea to get a blood mage drunk? Especially when that mage is Merrill?"

"Probably not," Varric says, chuckling.

I sigh, looking over my shoulder back at Alistair. He's rolled over to face the wall, and is still snoring. I've got nothing better to do and I could use a drink. I could also go for seeing if Leliana is still alive. And if Aedan is done fussing like a moron.

"As long as we get my brother involved," I say. "And as long as we avoid the poisoned drinks this time."

Isabela laughs as she walks off down the hall. "We will do our best!"

Varric looks up at me, grinning. "After you, Glowy." I roll my eyes as I step out into the hallway, shutting the door behind me. It is a short walk to the tavern below and Varric keeps up with me that entire way, muttering something about keeping Isabela off Merrill once the elf is drunk. He doesn't even doubt that it will end up that way, or that Isabela will get 'grabby-grabby', to quote Aedan. "You buying?"

I shrug. "I don't have anything else to spend my sovereigns on."

"Sounds good to me!" Varric says, chuckling again. He chooses a table in the corner before sitting down. I sit with my back to the wall and stare out at the patrons. None of them look familiar.

"No Seekers today."

Varric looks over his shoulder, snorting. "Maybe they got bored."

"Bored? They got bored watching a glowing mage sit around and do nothing? What an idea," I mutter, shaking my head. The dwarf ignores my comment, waving Norah over so I can pay her. I count out five sovereigns and hand then to her. Five should last us an hour to two.

"So, Glowy," Varric says, leaning over the table. "Got any interesting stories from the Blight?"

"I'm wondering how you've never asked this before," I say, crossing my arms as I lean back in my chair.

"Never thought of it," he says.

I raise an eyebrow before shrugging. "Sure, why not? Anything you want to hear about in particular?"

He grins. "How did you end up possessed?"

"That's a long one," I say, rocking my chair again. "Might want to wait for Merrill to get here. She'd like it, perhaps."

"Have it your way," Varric says. "We'll wait for Merrill. In the meantime, why don't you tell me how you managed to kill two high dragons? Or how you met Flemeth?"

Sighing, I look up. Which is the lesser of two evils? Hmm. "Hope blew the first one to pieces with my combustion grenades after it decided to do its best to eat Alistair. I stabbed the Archdemon in the head with my sword."

"You did? How?"

"I spent a lot of mana wearing it down," I say. "When it collapsed, I ran up and stabbed it before Aedan or Alistair could."

"Ah. Taking all the glory for yourself?" Varric asks, smirking.

"Maker, no!" I exclaim. "No, you have the wrong idea!" I shake my head, dropping my chair back to the floor. "Do you know why Wardens are needed to defeat the Blight? We're needed because if a regular person kills it, the essence of the dragon moves into another Blighted creature, and then the Blight continues. But when a Warden kills one, we take it and both of us die in the process. Then the Blight is over. Ta da."

Varric's eyes widen as Norah puts our drinks down on the table. He waits for her to walk away before he asks, "You killed it because you didn't want them dying?" I nod, and he laughs in disbelief. "It's rare to hear of courage like that out of a fairytale."

"I guess so."

He blinks, confused. "So, wait, how are you still alive then?"

"Flemeth's daughter," I say, looking at my hands. "Morrigan. She...she had Aedan perform a ritual with her the night before we marched for Denerim. He got her pregnant and when I killed the Archdemon, her baby absorbed its essence instead of me."

"And this kid is still alive?" Varric asks.

"As far as I know, yes. He is," I say, nodding.

"Walking around with the soul of an Old God, eh?"

"Yeah," I say, sighing.

"And the Maker doesn't want you to fit that, Glowy?"

"The Maker wants me to fix the Chantry," I mutter. "I guess that takes precedence."

"Ah," he says. "Fixing the unfixable?"

I snort out a laugh. "Considering it's His Bride that formed the Chantry, and now he has me tearing it down, I'm surprised it lasted this long."

Varric chuckles. "The Chantry is full of problems if you haven't noticed."

"Oh trust me. I've noticed. That's the only reason I don't think I'm going insane yet."

"Yet? That's a good one," Varric says. "I'd say you were insane just from charging an Archdemon with a death wish."

"Better than letting my brother die," I say softly. "Or Alistair."

The dwarf shrugs. "I heard there was another Warden with you when you were fighting the Blight. A Nevarran, no less."

"There was," I say. "Cyrus. He was one of the assassins Loghain and Howe hired to kill us."

"They hired a Warden to kill Wardens?"

"Cyrus had left the Wardens before that," I reply. "He got bored. And actually, it makes sense even though I'm sure Loghain didn't even know that we can sense each other and any nearby darkspawn."

"I gather that's an untold secret?"

"Usually," I agree, nodding. "But when I was Warden-Commander, my men took to calling me 'Commander Loose-Lips'. I felt that everyone should know the consequences of being a Grey Warden even if it might deter potential recruits. I thought it would be unfair."

"Commander Loose-Lips?" Varric starts laughing so hard his face turns red. "If it was as short as Glowy, I'd take to calling you that!"

I smile faintly. "Aedan calls me that sometimes."

"That's perfect," the storyteller says, snorting.

Looking past Varric, I see the door open as Merrill enters the Hanged Man. Isabela is leading Aedan and Leliana downstairs, the Orlesian leaning on my brother for support. My eyebrows knit together in concern as the Dalish elf slides into a chair next to Varric, effectively blocking my view. I get to my feet and walk around past, straight over to Leliana.

"Does your side still hurt?" I ask.

"More or less?" she asks, making a weak attempt at a joke. I raise an eyebrow and Aedan's forced to pull one of her arms over his shoulder. "More. Definitely more."

"I'm sorry," I say, walking alongside them as he pulls her over to our table. "Tell me if it gets unbearable and I'll see what I can do." I go behind the table first, dropping into my seat gratefully. Aedan helps Leliana sit between the two of us, smiling apologetically at Varric and Merrill. Isabela has sat next to the elf.

"It took us a moment to get her moving," Aedan says. "I apologize for the delay."

"No need, Cap," Varric says, waving a hand. "Daisy just got here, herself." He looks to me, frowning. "Now I believe you owe me a story."

"Ooh, what's it about?" Merrill asks excitedly. Sometimes she seems a lot more innocent than Alistair, but then I remember she's a blood mage trying to fix an Eluvian, and I forget that notion immediately.

"It's about Hope," I say. "About how we bonded."

"Bonded? I said possessed," Varric says, snorting. "I feel like I'm getting cheated."

"Well, she didn't possess me," I say. "If you ask her, 'the Father' brought us together. In other words, the Maker. If you ask me, I'd say it was watching one of Howe's men nearly kill Aedan."

"You don't seriously believe that's what brought her across the Veil, though," Aedan says. "Do you?"

"I used to," I say, shrugging. "Some days I feel it's truer than her explanation." I glance at Merrill, who looks confused every time we bring up the Maker. "I know Hope's reasoning goes against your beliefs, Merrill, but-"

"It's fine," she says, smiling. "It would be foolish to think our gods created humans to kill us the way they did. I've always believed there were other gods out there for each race."

"What about the dwarves?" I ask. "They worship their Paragons. Did they just spring up from the ground, bearded and all?"

"That's exactly what happened!" Varric says defensively.

I cover my mouth to stifle a laugh, shaking my head. "Anyway, I believe I was going to tell you what happened when we reclaimed Highever?" Varric nods and I scoot my chair in, leaning on the table with my elbows. Isabela calls Norah over for more drinks while I talk. "So, two weeks or so after Ostagar, Alistair, Aedan, and I were fussing over the treaties and about how we were supposed to raise this army to combat the Blight. We had already planned on going to Highever after we picked up supplies and some misfits from Lothering, but as we approached the lands, we realized our brother, Fergus, might actually be alive. Highever's men never joined the fighting at Ostagar as they were all scouting in the Wilds, and Leliana had informed us an army of men bearing laurel shields had passed through only a day or so before we arrived. So we chased Fergus and Highever's men across Ferelden, finally joining up with them a mile or so out of Highever Castle. We came up with a plan to get inside and retake it, meaning Leliana and I had to go get captured by Howe's soldiers. Once we were thrown in the dungeons by Thomas Howe no less, we waited an hour before getting the guards' attention. I locked them in my cell and we searched the rest of the prison, finding my mother locked away and beaten. Then we started making our way to a side passage where Aedan was waiting with the others. Once I let them in, we regrouped with Leliana at the gatehouse. We started to open the gates for Highever's men, but we were attacked in the process, and the weight was cut. I did some stupid stuff that I don't recommend ever trying so we could open the portcullis. Once the soldiers were in, we joined them in attacking Howe's soldiers. It took us a few hours to breach the main hall and the rest of the castle, but when Aedan and I went looking for Thomas, we figured he'd be back in our father's office, which is way back, as far away from the portcullis as possible. We fought our way there, just the two of us, but I lost Aedan while I was healing one of our men. When I caught up to him, I found one of Howe's knights standing over him. He attacked me and almost bested me, but Hope came out of nowhere, healing me just as I thought I was going to die. But she also completely took over, much the same way Justice does with Anders. She killed him in less than thirty seconds, and when Aedan and I finally got to our father's office, we found Thomas there with an entire garrison protecting him. As we fought our way in, I reached Thomas first, and before I could realize what was happening, Hope came out again, and he died within ten seconds.

"So there you have it. That's how I first got involved with Hope."

Leliana looks the most surprised. "That is how it happened? You never told me!"

"I didn't tell anyone," I say. "Not even Aedan. He met Hope when we were in the Fade, but didn't find out about the whole bond until much later." I shrug, adding, "And then there's Morrigan, who seems to know everything before I do."

"You didn't know you ended up in Highever's dungeons, Orlesian?" Varric asks.

Leliana rolls her eyes and Aedan snorts out a laugh. He looks over to me, raising an eyebrow. "So what are you playing with, sis?"

I blink rapidly, confused, as I clasp my hands in my lap. "Nothing. Why?"

Even Merrill can see I'm lying, but since I'm up against the wall with Leliana beside me, the bard is the only one that can try anything. She reaches for me, but I flip, pressing my back to the wall on my right. Her jaw drops and the rest of them start laughing.

"Overreacting?" Isabela asks, chuckling.

"Just a tad," Aedan says, raising an eyebrow. "You hit Leliana and I'll punch you, sister or not." He pauses, smirking. "Hope or not."

I scowl at him and Leliana lunges, elbowing my collarbone and knocking all the air from my lungs. I swear to the Maker my eyes almost pop out of my head, but she gets what she wanted, snatching my hand out from behind my back.

"You little shit," I snap.

"That is not very nice, Elissa," she says, clicking her tongue in an amused manner.

"Aedan?"

"What?"

"Punch me."

Isabela chokes on her drink and Varric laughs, slapping his hand on the table in amusement. I glance back at Leliana, but she's grinning like an idiot, and Aedan is looking over her shoulder. Merrill is sitting across from me, eyes wide.

"Ha!" Aedan exclaims, whipping around to Varric. "Ten sovereigns, dwarfy."

"Dwarfy?" Varric demands. "And why do I owe you ten sovereigns?"

"That bet last week?" Aedan says. "Pay up, pal." Varric looks over the table, almost falling on it to do so. He scowls, dropping back to his chair.

"What are you going on about?" Isabela says. "Let me see!"

Leliana whips around, suddenly pulling her attention back to focus. "Did you seriously bet on something like that?"

"Of course I did," Aedan says. "But hey! I bet in Alistair's favor!"

She groans, hiding her face in her hands, and I laugh. "You married a child," I say, laughing so hard my face turns red.

"Elissa?" Aedan says, looking at me. I raise an eyebrow through my laughter. "Look who's talking."

Now Leliana starts laughing, falling back on Aedan from how hard she is. Merrill looks completely lost by now, and Isabela looks annoyed. Varric still looks miffed as he hands Aedan his money and, I can't even breathe; I'm laughing that hard.

"What's so funny?" Merrill asks.

Leliana grabs my wrist before I can think to move my hand, slapping it on the table.

"Alistair proposed!"


	11. Drunken Problems

"To...to that fat guy in the Blooming Rose," Isabela says drunkenly, holding up her mug of ale. "The one with the magic fingers."

I've had at least ten pints, and I'm perfectly sober, which is hilarious. Varric looks to be ready to pass out, Merrill is slumped over on the table, Aedan passed out about ten seconds ago, and Leliana won't stop giggling. This is just too perfect.

"Magic-" Varric belches, making Leliana giggle harder. "Fingers?"

"He has-some very, very great...bedroom ideas," Isabela says, sounding like she's plotting treason or something as equally bad. "Want...to hear them?" She looks at me, grinning. "'Bout you, Miss I-Can't-Get-Drunk? You...wanna hear? Alistair-"

"Not listening!" Leliana exclaims.

Chuckling, I shake my head. "No, but I think it's time for you to stop, Bells."

"Bells?!" she demands furiously. "I-" She hiccups and I fight to keep a straight face. "Hate that!"

"Which is exactly why I called you that," I say.

"I...shall do an-impersonation of Glowy!" Isabela says. She smacks Varric on the chest and the dwarf jumps, jolting out of his stupor. "You need to-see this." The dwarf just nods, eyes drifting shut slightly. He watches as Isabela hops up on our table. She draws one of her daggers, pointing it at the wall. "Argh, mighty darkspawn! I shall-I shall smite thee!"

I almost fall out of my chair from laughing so hard. The pirate stabs out at the wall, grimacing, and loses her footing, falling headfirst to the floor. She gets up surprisingly fast, spinning around and jumping back onto the table.

"I am a heretic! Come-come kill me, Templars!" She skips for some reason, but it's priceless, and at least Leliana now has a reason to be giggling. "I am a glowing apostate! Blah gar!"

"Blah gar?" I ask between laughs.

"Blah gar!" Isabela says forcefully, falling off the table again. "Blah gar, Ser Alrik! Blah gar, blood mage! Blah gar, Archdemon!" She loses her dagger, and I get up, squeezing around past Aedan and Leliana to take it before she can hurt herself or someone else. My face hurts from laughing so hard, but I don't intend to let any of them keep drinking. They've had plenty. "Ack!" Isabela loses her breakfast and I gag, squeezing my eyes shut.

Yes, definitely too much to drink.

"All right, all right, that's enough," I say, helping her to her feet. I shove her into her chair while she laughs like a lunatic, giving Norah an apologetic look while she comes over with an rag and bucket.

"Next time your friends insist on getting drunk, Warden, do me a favor and don't let them."

"Can do," I say, nodding. I turn to Aedan first, zapping him lightly to wake him. My brother jumps and throws a fist before he can think, but I catch it, rolling my eyes. "Let's go, buddy-boy."

"Fuck you," he grumbles as I pull him to his feet. I huff, dragging him across the room to the stairs. "Ooh, Norah, why don't-"

I smack his chest, pushing him up the stairs. "Get moving. Time for bed. Chop chop."

"Chop chop?" Aedan finds that hilarious as he staggers upstairs, leaning on the wall for support. I sigh as I head back to the table, but then I hear something crash upstairs and a stream of curses. I slap my forehead before following Aedan. I help him to his feet. "You're a good friend, Isabela. Good and beautiful."

"You're drunk," I mutter. "And I'm Elissa."

"Don't lie to me, woman!" Aedan exclaims. "You're just-" He collapses against me, snoring the instant he lands. I yelp, stumbling back as I bring my arms up to hold him.

"Let me help," a voice says. I turn to see Theorn there, staff strapped to his back. He pries Aedan off me, chuckling and shaking his head. "How many has he had?"

"Ten. Like all of them."

"And you are not in a similar state?"

"I should be," I agree, throwing one of Aedan's arms over my shoulder. Theorn does the same and we start dragging my brother down to the room he shares with Leliana. I grunt, shifting his weight. "Hope keeps me from getting drunk."

"Ah," Theorn says.

I practically kick the door open. Theorn takes the lead and we drop Aedan on the bed. I lean on the bedpost, heaving for air, while he just adjusts his pack like carrying my brother didn't faze him at all.

"I assume Leliana and Aedan told you of the Faithful?" Theorn asks.

I manage to nod, breathing through my nose while my lungs wheeze. "Yeah. Probably...should ask...after...hangovers."

"Do you need to rest?" he asks, concerned. "I can bring the others up and walk Merrill home if you want me to."

"Please," I say, forcing myself to stand straight. Theorn nods, throwing my arm over his shoulder without asking. He leads me to my room and helps me inside before he offers a friendly smile and leaves.

"Keep an eye out for a human like myself," Theorn calls over his shoulder. "He's an ally!"

Human? Like himself? What?

He must mean with Qunari blood. I think. Probably. He better mean that. It would be really weird if he didn't and I turned away the help his friend offered.

"Have fun?" Alistair asks sleepily. I jump, whipping around, but he's still facing the wall.

"I...I'm having...trouble...breath-ing," I say. I double over, putting my hands on my knees as I heave for air. Alistair rolls out of bed and finds his clothes, getting into his pants faster than I've ever seen him get dressed before he helps me over to the bed. He hops back on first, sitting against the wall. Then he pulls me down beside him. I sit in his lap, using his chest for support, and breathe through my nose with controlled inhales. I try to breathe like I normally would, but my back hurts with my labored gasps and I don't get enough air regardless.

"What happened?" Alistair asks, suddenly alert.

"Drinking...game," I say breathlessly. "Aedan...drunk. Very drunk. Carried...upstairs. Too much."

Alistair laughs once, rubbing my shoulder. "You should've woken me up. I'd have loved to go get drunk."

I would laugh, but I'm afraid I don't have enough air for it, so I just lean my head against his neck, shaking with each failed attempt at breathing. He rests a hand on my leg, using his other to rub my back. It helps very little, but that's the only thing he can do. It means more than the pity I would get before.

"I'm sorry I can't do more," Alistair whispers, almost like he was reading my mind. "I hate seeing you like this."

I shake my head. "It's...okay, Alistair. I...I understand."

"I still feel horrible," he says.

I manage a smile, saying, "You...feel horrible? Imagine-how I f...feel."

"Worse than horrible," he says, hiding his face in my hair. "Maker, but I love how your hair smells."

"That...was random."

"It's true," Alistair says. "It...I can't describe it." Thank the Maker my face is already red. He shrugs, forcing an awkward smile. "I just like how your hair smells. Is that bad?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "No." He gives me a cross look, so I add, "It's...cute."

"Cute?"

"In an...awkward...way. Yes," I say, shifting so it's easier to breathe. Halfway through my sentence I felt something in my chest pop and that made breathing a lot more productive. It's so much easier, but still hard. "It works for you. Don't...don't change it."

He smiles, kissing the side of my head. "As long as you promise not to tell anyone I said that."

I raise an eyebrow, feigning confusion. "Said what?"

"Have I told you that I loved you yet?"

"Maybe once or twice."

"It wouldn't hurt you to hear it again, would it?"

I grin, kissing him lightly. Settling back against him, I say, "I love you, too, Alistair. Always." I don't plan on falling asleep laying on him like this, but I do, and I have another stupid smile on my face like before.

* * *

><p>I guess Merrill ended up sleeping her hangover off up with Varric. She's walking downstairs now, wincing with every little sound. Too bad for her; Corff's got someone singing some stupid song about Templars. Rather listen to something not about the idiots, but hey, it's better than nothing, and Alistair seems to be enjoying it.<p>

"How's the hangover?" I ask, watching Alistair out of the corner of my eye.

She winces, waving at me. I smirk as I look back down at the bread in front of me. "It's horrible! I'm never drinking again!"

"Well, I'm sure if you asked nicely, Elissa would make the headache go away," Alistair says, sticking a piece of cheese in his mouth. "Wouldn't you?"

I pause in the middle of chewing, glaring at the Templar out of the corner of my eye before swallowing and nodding. "Yeah, I guess I could."

Merrill's eyes bug out despite her headache. "Practicing magic...in public? I never did that with my clan!"

Grinning, I get to my feet and walk around the table. I look directly at the Seeker who has been watching the entire time. "You want to keep that headache or not?"

"Creators, no!" Merrill exclaims.

I feel awkwardly tall compared to the elf, not accustomed to being bigger than someone. I'm usually the smallest around. Short, thin, and quick. Not tall, wide, and slow. But my size suits me, and I'm perfectly happy with it.

I put my hand on Merrill's shoulder, sending small waves of healing energy through her to her head. The spell doesn't take much mana and it's over relatively quickly, but when I back away, I see a score of eyes locked on me. Many Fereldan, but enough belong to a Marcher that I feel like that was a stupid idea. I force myself to look at the Seeker, sitting in her armor, but she just stares at me, eyes narrowed. I narrow my eyes right back in a weak attempt to make my 'I'll hit you first if you come after me' point cross the tavern. She just snorts, rolling her eyes in annoyance. I grin as a feeling of victory overcomes my awkwardness and sit down again.

"Want to eat with us?" I ask.

"Er...no, thank you. I need to go home; I have a lot to do and you're probably really busy. But you're eating instead and-"

Laughing, I wave her off. "Merrill, it's fine. I understand. Go home."

She snaps her jaw shut, nodding. Then she leaves, stepping out into what seems to be a cold and breezy morning. That's the only thing I've ever hated about living near the coast. Except here in Kirkwall, the city _is _the coast. Highever was originally put where it was because it had a strategic view of ships coming from Kirkwall to Amaranthine.

"You honestly think that was a good idea?" Alistair whispers, raising his eyebrows.

"Of course not," I say. "There's that idiot Seeker back there and half the people in here aren't Fereldans. That was a horrible idea!"

"Then why did you do it?!"

"To make a point," I say, shrugging. Alistair sighs, shaking his head as he sits back on his bench. He pops a cheese cube in his mouth, eyes lighting up at the very taste, and I giggle, shaking my head in amazement. His hazel eyes flick up and catch my blue ones. He smirks at me, trying not to laugh with the cheese in his mouth. He fails, nearly choking on it. My eyes widen, but he solves his own problem, laughing at the absurdity of it. I take a moment to calm down before I start laughing, too. "Wonder how Leliana and Aedan are feeling."

"Hungover," an Orlesian accent says from behind. I look over my shoulder, smirking at the redhead as she sits beside me. Leliana drops her head on the table and groans. "I should never have agreed to that."

"Oh, come on!" I say. "It was fun!"

"It was fun because you did not get drunk," Leliana snaps bitterly.

"No, it was fun because Aedan thought I was Isabela and I heard some very interesting things." Leliana bolts upright, wincing, and Alistair and I laugh. She smacks my shoulder, huffing in annoyance.

"Fereldans."

"I thought you said you were a Fereldan?" Alistair retorts.

"Ooh, he got you!" I say.

Leliana rolls her eyes and hides her face on the table again. A faint groan of pain surfaces, but Alistair and I can only laugh again.

"Yeah, and last I checked, Orlesians don't get drunk on ale in a tavern," I add. "They get drunk at big, ridiculous parties off of wine and fancy Antivan drinks."

"That is only partially true," she says defensively, voice muffled. Alistair snorts indignantly and it's obvious he's fighting to keep his mouth shut.

"Well, I guess your headache is too bad for you to join us," I say nonchalantly, leaning against the column on my other side. I kick my legs up on the bench. Leliana says nothing in response, so I poke her side with the tip of my boot, and she smacks my calf with a surprising amount of force. My eyes widen, but I end up laughing anyway.

"You are a horrible friend, Elissa," she grumbles.

"Hey, she's not all gloom and doom apostate anymore, so..." Alistair trails off, shrugging. Leliana manages a weak laugh, seemingly surprised. I just shrug when she looks to me.

"Well, I was," I say. I stick my fork in the mystery meat on my plate, frowning. "You don't remember how long it took me to find my sense of humor after I killed the Archdemon?"

"I do," Leliana says, wincing again."Where are you going?"

"Nowhere important," Alistair says.

"Just to Hightown."

"Just to Hightown?" Leliana asks suspiciously.

"Yep," I say.

"And what are you going to do while you are 'just in Hightown'?" Leliana demands.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll find out which nobles are trying to kill me. Then maybe I'll kill them first."

"Killing isn't the only solution," she says.

"What would you do, then?" I snap defensively. "Let them kill you? Let's not forget they're not just after me, Leliana. They want all four of us dead."

"They want us gone," she retorts.

"Dead is a good enough explanation," I say. "They already killed you once. I barely had it in me to revive you. I don't want to risk something like that happening again."

"Then why not bring it to Aveline?" Leliana asks.

"Because Aveline can't do anything without proof," I say, getting to my feet. "Go get some sleep. I'm going out alone instead."

"Elissa-"

I whip, eyes blazing. "Alone," I repeat, locking gazes with Alistair in the middle of him getting up. He hesitates, looking between me and Leliana before he sits down, obviously unhappy about it. I send a forceful glare in the Orlesian's direction before I march upstairs.

_What set you off? _Hope asks.

"No idea," I mutter. "But I want to hit something, or someone. So I left before I did."

_It was probably for the best, _she agrees. _That Seeker was watching you the entire time. _

"Yeah, I saw," I say, shouldering the door to my shared room open. "She's probably going to follow me when I leave anyway." I shrug to myself. "I'll get away if she does, though. I always do." I open the chest set against the wall with some belongings Fergus sent from Highever, but I've long since cleared it out so Alistair and I could use it more practically. His Warden armor sits off to one side and mine is on the other.

No one leaves the Wardens. Once you're a Warden, you're always a Warden. Just because I put someone in charge while I was here doesn't mean I left.

I would never leave the Wardens.


	12. Grey Wardens

_Let me apologize profusely for how long it took for me to get these up! I had Christmas break and we didn't get back until January 5th, so...yeah. But hey-late Christmas present for you guys! Hope you had a wonderful Christmas and a fun New Year! Enjoy the surprise in this chapter and happy 2015!_

The priests look appalled that I'm in the Chantry. They probably think I could just talk to the Maker whenever I wanted. Nope, sorry. Doesn't work like that. He can talk to me, but I can't talk to Him. So, yes, I still go to the Chantry; the very thing I've been ordered to destroy and rebuild. I find it sort of amusing, especially the looks I get. Those are priceless every single time. It's even better when I kneel in front of the altar and pray. If I wasn't trying to be respectful, I'd laugh my ass off.

"I need some serious help," I mutter. "I feel like I'm losing my mind. I don't know where to go or what to do anymore. I've listened, or I've tried as hard as I could. But I've gotten nowhere, and just a little direction would be helpful. Any little help, anything, and I'll gladly take it. Please. I...I feel lost." I sigh, shaking my head. "I don't even expect an answer anymore. I don't know why I ever did. You left us, right? Because of some stupid Tevinter magister that's now running amok in Ferelden and killing my Wardens. All of mankind deserves to be punished for that. It makes total sense." I snort angrily. "So what's the point of having me if I just kill more people? You're supposed to come back when the darkspawn have been defeated, right? There are only supposed to be two more Blights. Then what? Your city is purified and you love us again? Well, sorry to tell you, but we don't think like that. People won't be very happy if that's true. You'll probably get another revolt and then we'll get something new to fight. More darkspawn maybe? Or something totally different?"

I laugh bitterly. "I'm done expecting help from you. You've never given much more than words." I get to my feet and walk right out of the Chantry, face blank.

I don't see the point. Isn't the Maker supposed to stand for everything good and pure? Since when does that mean He wants me to kill people for Him? I've done it before, yes, but they're always people I would've killed without being told to. The Tevinter slaver in the Denerim Alienage? I would have happily killed him if I'd known sooner. The people worshipping the dragon in Haven? I had to kill them anyway.

But Andrastians? Why am I being told to kill them? It was only the Templars at first, but now I have to fix the entire Chantry? I don't even know everything that's wrong with it! How am I supposed to do that? I'm one person!

I still can't believe I was told to wage a war with the Chantry. That's practically telling me to fight Thedas!

* * *

><p>When I start to see sand under my boots, I look up. I walked all the way out to the Coast. It looks like it always has, scraggly trees, dead bushes, and sharp, jagged rocks poke up from the water. Wrecked ships can be seen farther out to sea, but none look recent. They all have greens growing up their sides. The sails are ripped to shreds so badly that any crests or symbols that had been on them is unrecognizable. The hulls are smashed; I can see that much from here. But nothing lives in these waters. If the sailors got the chance to swim for the shore, they probably made it.<p>

Sighing, I resume my walk, hoping there's a gang out here somewhere. I could use the exercise. And I need to hit something in the worst way. But if they're smart, they'll ignore me. Most criminals ignore Wardens because we're terrifying. Between being recruited into the secretive order and willingly running at packs of darkspawn, I'm not surprised walking around in the silver and blue makes us avoidable. If I wasn't a Warden, I'd be afraid of them, too. You're either one of us, or you're afraid of us. That's just how life goes.

As I come up a hill, I get blasted with a gust of wind that carries the scent of blood. Then I see the grey bodies scattered around the stones and I frown. Why are there dead Qunari out here? Are they part of that rogue band, the Tal-Vashoth? A quick inspection of their gear confirms my suspicions, but then that begs the question. Who killed them?

I pull my bow off my shoulder as I continue on, knocking an arrow to its string. There was a gaping hole in one of their chests, meaning there's a mage out here somewhere. And they're brave enough to take on the giants. Which makes me suspect blood magic.

My head whips at every little sound, searching my surroundings with a practiced eye. I find myself on a small outlook over the water a moment later and I walk on it, looking below. There's a cave, a known hideout for any bandits hiding on the Coast. A little ways out is a small strip of land only a few hundred feet wide and about the same in length. Rocks bigger than a high dragon cover it, concealing whatever the people below are hiding from. They have whatever is back there trapped unless it wants to swim.

It takes me a moment to recognize the uniforms of Kirkwall's guards, and several more to recognize the four that look like mercenaries as they converse. One of the guards is hit with an arrow and every single person jumps, looking at the fallen man in horror.

Go figure; the one time Hawke doesn't bring Anders, and there's a man he could heal. I have to go help them now. I'd hate if I could've saved him and ended up doing nothing. He probably has a family back in Kirkwall, waiting for him to come home. I don't want to be the reason that he doesn't. How many people have I seen that happen to already? Too many. Too many to count. So many Wardens had families they still wrote to. The ones that died at Ostagar...the ones that Corypheus has killed in his experiments...And all the soldiers that died retaking Denerim...

I want to save as many lives as I can. I hate thinking of children that will grow up without a mother or a father or both.

Nope. I'm going down there whether Hawke likes it or not.

Pulling my bow back over my shoulder, I go back several feet and run for the path down. I'm like a huge, shiny target in this armor, but it's well-made. I'm pretty sure it'll be able to block at least one arrow. I hope it can. If not, I might end up like that guard.

It's a risk I'm willing to take. If I can run at darkspawn and demons and whatever else fate throws at me, I can run at an archer keeping the guards and Hawke and her friends at bay.

I slide around a bend to keep myself from flying into the water, kicking up sand into the metal over covering the leather of my boots. It gets between the plates of my gauntlets, too, but if I shake my hands, the sand falls out. And I'm running, so my hands are moving with my arms.

With barely more than a glance, I see the archer rising from behind his cover to fire again. And with the way the sun is positioned, it hits my shoulder-guard perfectly, making it shine. I'm his target now and I know it. I can't see him fire because once again, the sun is messing everything up, but I see sand explode in a cloud less than three feet away. If I was running straight at him, dodging the arrows would be a lot easier. But I'm not, so I really do have to rely on my armor to protect me.

"Look who it is," Fenris grumbles.

"Shut up," I snap as I slide into cover. He gives me his best broody look, but I ignore him.

"What are you doing here?" Hawke snarls.

"Definitely not here because I'm watching your miserable ass," I retort. I look to Aveline immediately. "Get your shield ready. I need you to cover me. Got it?" She looks surprised and confused, but she nods, pulling the metal sun-shield from her back. I wait for her to tighten its straps on her forearm before saying, "Make sure I don't get shot while doing this, okay? If you can do that, I'll heal your guard. Deal?"

"Deal," the redhead says. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are," I say, nodding. Aveline inhales deeply before getting to her feet. She walks out with her shield up, crouching in front of her fallen guard. Not less than a second later, an arrow bounces off it and zings back to us. I duck as it flies overhead. Once it's clear, I scramble to my feet and race behind the Guard-Captain, grabbing her guard by the arm. It's hard enough to get footing on this stupid sand without having to haul a three-hundred pound guard back ten feet. I make little progress and I hear a metallic ding as another arrow bounces off Aveline's shield.

"Hurry up!" Aveline says.

"Trying to!" I reply. I grab under his arm and he moans in pain. "Easy. We're getting you out of here one way or another."

"Let me help." I look up, meeting Hawke's cold stare. I match the annoyance she's showing, but we can't argue right now.

"Grab his other arm," I say. The woman nods, doing as ordered. When she's ready, I pull on the guard and so does she. His armor gives, loosening the hard-packed sand enough that we can move him. It takes five seconds for us to drag him behind the boulder they're using as cover. "We're good! Get back here!"

Aveline waits for the third arrow to hit her shield before she runs back to us, slinging it over her shoulder again. Hawke snaps the shaft off the rest of the arrow while I unbuckle his chest plate, throwing the ruined metal aside.

"How bad is it?" the guardswoman asks.

"I've seen worse," I say, getting a potion out of my pack. "Darkspawn actually shoot better than that idiot." I hand Miranda the flask of red liquid. "Make him drink that while I get the arrow out." She nods and sets to work, holding his head in her lap. I busy myself with cutting away his shirt, tossing the bloodstained cloth over my shoulder. "Missed the heart. That's good. But it's still going to hurt." I place a hand around what remains of the shaft before I pull it out. He screams as I toss it away, covering the small hole in his chest. My hands glow through the cracks in the plates covering them as the spell takes affect. His rapid breathing now slows and his muscles visibly relax.

"Thank...thank you," he pants. I pat his chest, nodding.

"No problem," I say.

"So are we going in?" the guardswoman asks.

"As one," Hawke replies, nodding. She looks at me while I clean the blood off my gauntlets. "You coming or what?"

I snort indignantly. "Of course I'm coming. I've got nothing better to do anyway."

Varric laughs, shaking his head. "So glad I took Blondie's hangover medicine earlier."

I roll my eyes. "Let me deal with the archer first." The small band nods and I draw my bow, creeping out from behind the rock. An arrow whizzes past my face, barely missing my cheek, but I don't flinch. In the time it takes him to draw another arrow, I've fired my own, sending him tumbling down from his perch. "Beat that, Varric!"

"Gladly!" the dwarf retorts, readying Bianca as Hawke and Aveline lead the guards out from their position.

* * *

><p>"Ser?"<p>

The Nevarran looks over his shoulder, arms clasped firmly behind his back. "What is it?"

"Ed and Blake have confirmed that the darkspawn on the Coast are dead," the Warden says. "They also spotted the elf you had us looking for. Theorn?"

"They did? Where?"

"Inside Kirkwall," she says. "He's spending his time offering meager assistance to the Warden-Commander and the Alienage elves. We're still unsure of where he goes when he's not there. It's almost like he vanishes."

"No, he's there somewhere, Aeylynn," the older Warden replies. "He's definitely there. If he's helping the Commander then he's probably keeping the Faithful at bay."

"Ser, we have every right to-"

"We are not starting a war with Kirkwall, lieutenant!" he roars furiously. "We're going to do what we came to and then return to Ferelden as planned." He turns away, looking back out over the field in front of him. "If we interfere, we might end up searching for a new Warden-Commander." He sighs deeply. "Tell Carver to get inside the city and tell her we're here on Warden business. Maybe they'll help."

"I don't see that happening, ser."

"Elissa never left, nor did Aedan or Alistair," the man says. "If our information is correct, they won't be very busy protecting that noblewoman." He glances back at the warrior. "Go. Now. We want this over with before the Qunari snap."

"Yes ser."

With the Warden gone, Cyrus sighs, shaking his head. She better come back. He's done leading the Fereldan Wardens.


	13. Leadership Issues

_So there are some spoilers for Inquisition ahead! Skip the section about Theorn if you haven't beat it yet; it's a pretty big spoiler!_

Miranda doesn't say anything as we walk back to Kirkwall. Fenris walks alongside her, shooting me glares every few seconds. I glare whenever Varric doesn't ask me to tell a story or whenever Aveline doesn't ask if I can help her with her recruits. I barely know the woman, but apparently you don't need to know someone to respect and trust them enough with training guards.

"So you really blew Fort Drakon to pieces?" Varric asks, laughing.

"Obviously not!" I exclaim, shaking my head. "Maker, no! If I blew the prison up, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be the Hero of Ferelden whether or not I killed an Archdemon!"

"Really?" Varric says, confused.

"Really."

"Why?"

"You don't know the story?" Aveline asks.

"What story?"

"You haven't heard how Maric reclaimed Ferelden?!" I demand. My jaw drops and I look to Aveline, but she looks as shocked as I am. "You...you never heard of his fight with the Usurper? How he killed him at the top of Fort Drakon and planted his head outside of Denerim's gates on a pike?"

"So...let me get this straight," Varric says. "If you blew Fort Drakon up, Fereldans would be mad because that's where the Orlesian king died?"

"Yes!" Aveline and I say.

"It's totally understandable!" I continue. "We were under Orlesian rule for far too long, and when it ended, it ended at Fort Drakon. Of course they'd hate me!"

"So you and the Orlesian didn't blow Fort Drakon up?" Varric asks, ignoring the previous conversation completely.

"No!"

"That's boring," Varric says. "You have to blow something up. It's not a good tale without something exploding."

"I blew up a high dragon." That was so sudden everybody starts laughing so hard we have to stop walking. "But I'm pretty sure I told you about that before." Varric nods, laughing so hard he's holding his sides.

"Wait, you knew about that?" Aveline says.

"Yeah," I say. "I told him before he got himself too drunk to think."

"In all fairness, Glowy, we all got drunk except for you," Varric says. "It would've been more fun if you'd told us you couldn't get drunk."

"I didn't even know!"

"Some days I wonder how the Blight ended," Hawke says suddenly, stopping our progress. Kirkwall is just in sight if I look over her shoulder.

"Me too."

The apostate crosses her arms, jerking her head in the direction of the city. "The rest of you head back. I want to talk with Elissa."

"Hawke, are you sure-" Fenris starts. She whips on him, glaring hard enough to rival his broody stares. He scowls, backing down after a few seconds. "Fine." The lyrium-branded elf leads the way to the city's gates, Aveline and Varric on his heels. They soon disappear around a bend in the road, voices swallowed by the roar of the ocean at the base of the cliffs.

Hawke is watching where they disappeared, face blank. I cross my arms and clear my throat, saying, "I believe you wanted to talk to me?"

She blinks, looking like she forgot I was even here. "Yes. I do." She beckons me after her as she turns away, walking up a path leading into the foothills of the nearby mountain range.

"You better not be taking me out here to be murdered."

She snorts a dry laugh. "No. I'd just attack you."

"That's comforting."

"I didn't say I think I'd win. I probably wouldn't."

After that, we walk in silence. I stray back a few feet, memorizing the way back as best as I can. She just keeps going, never pausing. I find myself thinking back to the Blight no matter how many times I try to avoid it, and for some reason, I let my thoughts stray in that direction. I worry about my friends sometimes, usually Morrigan and Talith. But that's only because I wouldn't even be here without them. Talith, emotionless as he is, had my back when it came down to it. Morrigan...she really did save my life despite sleeping with my sort-of younger brother. I won't forget that, but I've forgiven her for it. And my other companions, even the ones I hardly know, I still miss. I miss Zev's dirty humor and Cyrus berating him for it while secretly laughing behind our backs. I miss Wynne's mothering, surprisingly. I miss Sten's glares and blank faces. I miss listening to them at camp at night when Leliana would play her lute while they sang. I even miss Oghren, who I hardly knew until we made him a Warden at Amaranthine. I still remember what he did when we found him in that kitchen-like room fighting darkspawn. He _waved_. He was all excited to see Aedan and I, and he barely knew me. He and Aedan had been decent friends, but I was almost a total stranger to him.

I miss the sense of companionship I had with all of them. I'm friends with a few of the people Hawke knows-Anders, Varric, and maybe Isabela-but it's not the same. I was what held them together, so I knew all of them. I was on good terms with the lot of them despite Hope. We kept each other alive on the battlefield, and then went to camp that night and acted like nothing was wrong with the world. I fought a war with them. I led an army with them. With Hawke and her people...I don't really feel the same thing with them. Sure, I've saved their lives and they've returned the favor so many times I can't count, but they're just...friends. The people that helped with the Blight are like a second family. We went through so much as a group, and when I dropped off the face of Thedas, they kept going because Aedan held them together. That day I showed up in Highever, even Sten got up to say hello. They missed me, and I missed them.

I still do.

"Here we are," Hawke says, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I blink rapidly."Where are we, exactly?" I ask.

Hawke shrugs. "I don't know. I just...I felt like stopping here." She shrugs again. Twice in the span of five seconds.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

"What happened with my mother." She crosses her arms and turns away, looking in the direction of the city. "What happened during the Blight."

"Oh."

"How do you lead?" she asks.

"I...what?"

"How. Do you lead?"

"I...I don't," I say. "Or at least, not that I've noticed. I mean, my only real experience with leading was during the Blight. I wasn't very good at it. I didn't pay attention half the time I was talking to someone; that was Aedan's job. No one even knew I was the leader until I led the charge down the hill to Denerim."

"You still led an army," Hawke says. "I just want to know how you managed to do that after losing your entire family. Most, if not all, of Thedas knows about Howe and what he did to the Couslands. How did you go from that to leading people across Ferelden?"

"I had Alistair," I say softly. "And Aedan. And Leliana. I had a small family with my friends. It made up for the one I lost at Highever. They didn't even die. I still have my mother and Fergus. I thought I lost both of them." She doesn't say anything further, so I walk a little closer. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know what to do anymore!" she exclaims furiously. "I lost my father years ago! I lost Bethany to an ogre when we were fleeing Lothering! Carver got sick when we were in the Deep Roads, and my mother just died to some crazy blood mage!" She throws her hands up in exasperation. "And I still find myself in the center of Kirkwall's problems. I have the Hero of Ferelden breathing down my neck, the Knight-Commander practically stalks me because I'm a known apostate, and the First Enchanter keeps pestering me about how I'm still free of the Circle!" She looks back at me, eyes full of hurt. "I've lost everything and found so little. Yet here I am, defending a city I despise with every fiber of my being. I'm a Fereldan defending a city in the Free Marches."

"I'm a possessed mage that's engaged to a Templar," I say, crossing my arms. Hawke shakes her head, laughing. "Your life isn't all that strange compared to mine."

"I suppose not," she agrees. "But how? How did you keep going with all of that?"

"Like I said, I had my friends," I say. "Alistair's made sure I smile at least once a day since I met him at Ostagar. Leliana and I went through just about everything together. Aedan...Aedan's my twin. I love him more than anything. And if I would've lost one of them, I probably would've given up." I sigh, looking up at the sky. "Point is, look at the people you still have. There's Anders. He's a moody little shit that's obsessed with killing Templars and is no better off than I am, but he loves you. That much is obvious. Aveline was with you when you fled Lothering, right? Well, she thinks of you like family. Varric is an annoying dwarf, but he's a good man. Usually. Merrill is a sweetheart when she's not using blood magic. They all follow you for a reason, Miranda. They care. Me and my band of heretics? We care. We all do. And as long as you don't tell us to go jump off a cliff, we'll follow."

"Yeah, Anders and I are still in your band, aren't we?"

I shrug. "More or less. We haven't really done anything other than get yelled at by the Chantry. And trust me, it's not as fun as it sounds."

"The Chantry hates me anyway," Hawke says.

"Are you sure you want to get involved? You heard what-"

"I'm sure," Miranda says. "I've never been much of a leader, but give me an order and I'll get it done."

"You'll still have to do the things the Viscount asks."

"Still rather do this," she says. "Freeing mages? Killing Templars? Fixing the Chantry? Of course I'm helping you. Just let me."

"You don't know what you're asking, what's being offered."

"Then tell me."

"I don't even know exactly," I admit. "When the four of us made this cult, we pledged our lives to the Maker and to each other. At the Landsmeet, I saved my life with the mark on my hand, blinding everyone in the room except for them. They're immune to anything it might do, but I don't know what else I've done to them."

"I can think of worse causes to offer myself to."

"So could I," I agree. "That doesn't mean I want to ask you to help us."

"But I'm offering."

"And I'm afraid to accept."

* * *

><p>"Have you seen her?" Zarlyn asks as he jogs up to his friend's side.<p>

"I have," Theorn says, nodding once. He leans on his staff, nodding at the forest below. "I've seen Morrigan and Talith and the child. I've seen Cyrus and the Wardens. I have seen the Agents of the Maker. All of Thedas' heroes are returning to one place. It is...disconcerting. I do not like it." The Qunari-blooded elf sighs, pulling his staff up from the dirt. "As a boy, I used to get excited at the thought of our gods returning. I used to fight in their names. Now I try to pave a clear path for a human woman serving her god, and that requires me to fight my own."

"It will all work out in the end, Theorn."

"I like to think it will." The elf starts down the hill, Zarlyn following. "Are you ready for a fight, Zarlyn? The Witch of the Wilds will not go down easily."

He scratches his small horns. "Didn't you help the Wardens kill her once?"

"I did," Theorn says, nodding again. "She was not easy to kill then and she will not be easy to defeat now. She is a god. Gods are never easy to defeat."

"You hear of that darkspawn in Ferelden? The one killing Wardens?"

"He claims to be one of the Tevinter magisters that infiltrated the Golden City," Theorn says. "The one that led them there no less. He says he is a god, but he is not."

"Corypheus," Zarlyn says. "The noblewoman and her friends released him you know."

"I do," the elf says. "But I will not tell the Forgotten or her friends. It would only create more tension where there is already too much."

"Kirkwall is a problem. Change would do the city some good."

"Change is not enough. It needs to be razed and remade. The Chantry needs to be reformed. My people need to be trusted and equalized. Thedas needs fixed as a rule."

"That it does," Zarlyn agrees. "Have you ever thought about just...stopping?"

"No. It is my job to guard the Forgotten. It is her job to carry out the Maker's will. As long as I do my job, her job gets done, whether she knows it or not."

"You are a very strange elf."

"I like it that way."

"Of course you do. Now where are we going exactly?"

"To meet some old friends," Theorn says. "They too are tracking Mythal."

* * *

><p>As he rolls up the sleeping roll, Talith realizes something is wrong. His head snaps up and finds a sword in his face, shining down to the tip of the blade. His eyes widen as he reflexively reaches for his own blade, but the sword touches his throat, and he drops his hand back to the ground.<p>

"What have we here, boys? An elf in Templar colors?"

"I am a Templar," Talith says.

The man snorts. "Who in their right mind makes an elf a Templar?"

"Olson!" A man behind Talith throws a patch overhead; Talith's rank patch signifying him as Knight-Captain. The swordsman catches it with his free hand, laughing once he interprets it.

"Bet those Chantry fools will pay a handsome price for you, huh?"

"That would be surprising," Talith admits. "I am not from the Free Marches."

"No, we know that. You Fereldan dog, you're that Templar that helped their Hero, aren't you?" When Talith doesn't answer, the bandit pushes the sword further into his neck, far enough to draw blood. He barely twitches. "Aren't you?!"

"I am."

"What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Templar business. I am not allowed to say, but if you release me, I will pay you well." When unarmed, talk your way out of it. Talith has lived off that since he found Morrigan and the Eluvian. He just hopes she and the boy are all right.

"Do you think we're stupid?!"

"Well, you didn't notice the big shiny Warden waltzing in on this, so I'd assume so."

Talith whips despite the sword on his neck, eyes locking on said Warden and the apostate beside her.

"How about you walk away and we don't kill you?"

"Not happening, Fereldan! We've been paid-"

"Yes, yes, paid by the Faithful to kill me or capture people that I'm known to be friends with," Elissa says dismissively. "I've been over this once this week. Twice is two times too many." She clasps her hands together. "So. Last chance. Walk away and I forget about this, or stay and die. Your choice."


	14. Threats

"Big shiny Warden?" Talith asks.

I grin at the elf, but he stays as expressionless as ever, only showing amusement through those grey eyes of his. "It's good to see you, Talith."

"It is nice to see you as well, Warden-Commander," he replies. "Who is this?"

"My-" My eyes widen on the woman walking out of the nearby cave. A small boy follows and Talith follows my gaze. "You!"

Morrigan's head snaps up at the sound of my voice and she goes for her staff, running to the rock it's resting on. She spins in a blur, throwing a ball of stone as big as my head at my chest. It throws me off my feet before Talith or I can react. I roll onto my side, coughing and groaning. I barely have the chance to get a hand under me when I see her feet in front of me.

"That...wasn't very...nice," I say, coughing. "Damn!"

"I told you not to follow me."

"I didn't! I've been in the Free Marches since the Wastes! Maker, woman, I haven't even thought about looking for you!" I flop onto my back, coughing still. "Damn it, Morrigan! That hurt!"

"That was the idea."

"You're still a complete bitch," I grumble, reaching under my chest plate to massage my collarbone. I wince, pulling my hand away instantly.

"Then why are you in my camp?"

"I saw bandits heading this way after doing some cult stuff with this idiot." I gesture to Hawke while I clamber my feet. Morrigan sighs, exasperated, and loops an arm around my stomach, helping me stand. "Thanks. Sort of."

"You are welcome. Sort of."

I roll my eyes. "I thought you were in Orlais."

"We were in Orlais," Morrigan says, walking away. "But I needed to come to the Free Marches to help a friend with something. So we came here." She looks back at me, glaring. "You will not tell Aedan, Alistair, or Leliana I am here. You will continue on like this never happened."

"Er...okay?"

"Good," she says. "Leave us." Morrigan actually looks sad when she looks at me again. "I am not the friend you think I am, Elissa. You should not become involved in my own problems."

I cross my arms. "Hawke, you can go back to Kirkwall." She asks if I'm sure first, and when I don't do anything but nod, she sighs and leaves. Once I'm sure she's out of earshot, I turn back to Morrigan and Talith. "You got involved in my problems. You saved my life more than once. I'd be willing to return the favor."

And before she can reply, I turn on my heel, only glancing back to see the boy watching with wide eyes. Blue eyes. My eyes.

* * *

><p>I didn't catch up to Hawke on the way back. I saw glimpses of her, but I never made the effort to get back to her. I kept walking, watching the city as I went down the cliff path. I could see the Docks and Darktown from there and even Hightown if I looked at the right angle. Then there were the Gallows, built off against its own cliff. I still have yet to go there. I never plan on doing so.<p>

_Your words were unwise, _Hope says. _You could have angered the Father._

"I don't give a damn. What I said was true," I mutter. "Why did we all deserve to be punished for what the magisters did, Hope? Innocent people have been dying for too long because seven Tevinters chose to ignore the Maker when he asked Corypheus to do what I do, instead marching on the Golden City. They came back darkspawn, and now we have the Blight. Where is that fair?"

_The Father is not fair, _Hope says solemnly.

"Well, then He can deal with what I said. And so can you."

_I am on your side, Elissa. I just thought to warn you._

"I know," I say.

As I approach the city, the portcullis opens slowly. By the time I get to it, it's barely opened enough that I can duck under it. The moment I am clear, it slams back into the ground. The guards here don't look at me as I walk past into Lowtown. They stare forward, faces hidden in their helmets. It makes them seem inhuman. Fake.

Terrifying. Like Templars with their cold glares through their own helmets. I don't like it. I understand when mages say the Templars don't even seem like people to them. If they didn't have those helmets, they'd be just as hard to kill as someone living on the streets.

"Serah!"

I blink. What?

"Message for you, miss! Urgent!" A Fereldan man runs up to me through the crowd, staggering when he breaks free. "Here!" He hands me an envelope before he sprints off, straightening his bag that's probably full of things for him to deliver. He's gone too fast for me to call him back and question him.

What the hell just happened?

_You should probably open it, genius._

"Haha so funny," I snap under my breath. I look around, searching for somewhere out of the way to sit and open it. I spot a stack of crates off to the side of the street. On the complete opposite side of the crowd of shoppers. "Great." I stuff the message into my pack before I start forcing my way through. The people push and shove me into others, and with all of my armor, I'm knocked into some people hard enough to throw us both off our feet. One of the people I hit is obviously a nobleman, and he lets loose a stream of curses, pushing me away so hard I spin. I slam into the nearest person and we both hit the ground with a very metallic clang.

Groaning, I roll onto my side, blinking to clear my vision. My world spins, preventing me from standing.

"Oh! Elissa! I'm so sorry!" Alistair exclaims. He grabs me by the arm and hauls me to my feet. "I'm so sorry! Are you okay?"

I shake my head rapidly, blinking several times. "I'm fine." He still looks upset, but I smile at him in a weak attempt to calm his nerves. "So what are you doing?"

"Er...nothing," he says, clasping his hands behind his back. "I wasn't doing anything."

"You're a horrible liar, Alistair."

"No, no I am not!" he says, stepping away. "You are the horrible liar! Not me!"

I cross my arms. "So you _are _lying to me."

"What? No! Who said anything about lying?"

"Then what are you hiding?"

"Nothing!"

"Then what's in your hand?"

He shows me them instantly, both empty. I raise an eyebrow suspiciously. "See? Nothing! I wasn't doing anything!"

"Alistair..."

He sighs, looking away as a blush creeps up on him. "I...was coming out to look for you. I was...worried."

"You don't need to hide that," I say. "That's fine."

"I thought you'd yell at me if I told you."

"Do you want me to?"

"Maker, no!" Alistair says, waving his hands frantically. "Don't do that! I hate fighting with you. No no no no no no no no no."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Fine, you've convinced me. I won't yell at you."

"Thank the Maker." He looks far more than relieved as he offers me a hand. "Well, now that I've found you, why don't we go back to the Hanged Man?" I nod, smiling, as I accept his hand. "Now if we could only get through this crowd..."

"You know what makes people move?" He shakes his head, raising an eyebrow. "Darkspawn."

"That's just bad, Elissa," Alistair says, shaking his head in amusement.

"Well, it might work. Want to test that theory?"

His eyes almost pop out of his head. "No!" When I start laughing, he rolls his eyes, poking my side through my armor. I squeal, swatting at his hand. He laughs now, pushing me in the opposite direction. "You're a bad, bad woman."

"I am amazing," I retort, pulling him after me.

"Arrogance? That's a new one." I throw him a grin over my shoulder as I tug him under a piece of cloth covering the side of a building and the merchants beneath it. Most shoppers are sitting under here and eating lunch with friends and family. Enough are out on the streets to crowd it in ridiculous waves of people, but here there's room to breathe.

I drop his hand, reaching into my pack for the envelope. I tear it open and unfold the piece of paper that was concealed within.

_Leave the city. We don't want people like you here._

"What is it?" Alistair asks.

"A stupid threat," I reply. "Come on."


	15. The Qunari Compound

Isabela stops at the intersection between the Qunari Compound and the rest of the Docks, looking around. I stop a few feet back. "What is it?"

"Too quiet," she says. She glances around a few more times before beckoning me after her.

"It's nearly midnight and it's raining," I say. "You expect people to be out?"

"People are always out," Isabela says. "This is Kirkwall, and ever since Hawke helped Aveline grow a set she's had more guards out. There's no one here except for us." She pulls one of her daggers out as she goes around a corner. Then she jumps back, slamming herself against the wall. I start to ask her what's wrong, but she holds a finger to her lips, so I shut up. The pirate motions for me to go to the other side of the staircase down. I do, pressing my back against the building I'm hiding behind. She points down before leaning out just enough to look. I do the same, eyes widening.

There's a Templar and some citizens sneaking up into the Qunari Compound.

"What are they doing?" Isabela asks.

"What do you think?" She rolls her eyes.

"I meant why!"

"Didn't sound like it to me," I reply. "Well, come on. We can't just let them up there! Kirkwall has enough problems with the Qunari already."

"We shouldn't-"

"Oh, shut up. We have to go that way anyhow and this is the only way for them to leave." Isabela huffs in annoyance before nodding.

But when I look back, they're all up in the compound already, doing whatever they came to do. Kill, steal, kidnap, something. And I might hate this city; this city might hate me, but I will not let fools ignite a war with innocent people caught in the crossfire. So I bolt, running down to the ladder. I hear Isabela follow as I throw myself onto the ladder. It shakes under my weight, but stays strong. I scale its rungs, skipping over one with each motion. As I pull myself over the edge and into the compound, I hear fighting break out. I'm not even sure who to help, but I draw my sword and run across the small courtyard, tackling the nearest human off a Qunari. He kicks me off him, down a set of stairs and into a crate, before sprinting after me.

"The Faithful will stand triumphant! Kill the heathens! Kill them all!"

I climb to my feet, swaying, when my eyes focus on the man I hit again. He raises his weapon above his head, but I roll past as it falls, reaching for an arrow. I throw it like I used to when I had no more options. Thankfully, it slams into its target without much fuss, killing him instantly. I barely catch sight of a rather big Qunari coming down from the back of the compound, two weapons big enough to match his size in hand. One doubleheaded axe, one greatsword he makes look like a longsword.

I snap myself back into the fighting, focusing on locating Isabela. I spot her up by the throne-like chair all the way back up the stairs, dueling the Templar knight. She dispatches him quickly before moving on to an archer. I get my feet to work and dash up after her.

Faintly, ever so faintly, I hear the sound of splitting air off to my left. I start to look, but then I see that huge Qunari and his axe just as it slams into my chest. The weapon holds me in place even though my feet keep going, causing me to flip over it. The pain barely registers. I see red everywhere, all over my chest, red spots in my vision, mixing on the ground beneath me with the puddles of rain. I feel the water hit my exposed flesh and I want to scream, but I can't. It hurts so much. Too much to bare.

"Elissa!"

Can't breathe can't breathe...can't...see? No. It's dark and the rain is too heavy. Hurts to think. Hurts to do anything. Hurts period.

I want it to stop. I want to die, lying here on the ground.

But I can't. I have to get up and keep going. I made a promise when I took Andraste's sword, and I'm going to keep that promise even if it kills me in the end. I haven't kept it yet and I need to get up and do it. But I can't even breathe. I need something. I need a potion. I try to get my pack open, but I can't move. My body doesn't respond.

That infuriates me. I _have _to get up.

I see white. White everywhere. Almost like snow, but it's not. It can't be snow. Meaning it has to be Hope. Thank the Maker she could still think. I don't have the brainpower to get past 'need to get up'.

It's a weird feeling, knowing your flesh in knitting back together. Being able to feel it. She heals me as best as she can, but the metal of my armor caved with the blow and the jagged edges still cut into me. But I don't care. The worst of the pain is gone. I can breathe. My fingers start moving when I tell them to. Thank the Maker.

I roll onto my side, groaning at the stress it puts on the cuts from the metal. I feel blood running down my torso, hot and sticky.

We need to get out of here.

I get to my feet, wincing, but find where my sword flew off to and I take it, shoving it in its scabbard.

"Isabela!" I yell, coughing. I stagger, catching myself on a lip leading to a wrap-around level for guards to stand.

"You're an idiot!" she snarls, grabbing my arm. She pulls me after her, dragging me down the steps to the wooden gate below. She hits it with her shoulder and forces it open. I lose my balance and stagger, falling. She falls with me. "You're going to get us both killed!"

"Oops," I mutter. "I didn't try to get hit with that thing!"

"I didn't say you did, but it would be great if you'd walk on your own, dammit!"

I push myself to my knees and then to my feet, swaying with a gust of wind. I hit the side of a building, but keep going forward until we're back at the intersection. Isabela pushes me towards the stairs leading up to Lowtown. I have to lean on the wall the entire time, but we make a lot more progress with me on my own feet. She still has to help me once in a while, but I move on my own a lot easier with a wall supporting me instead.

"Anders isn't going to be in his clinic, so we're going to have to get that off you without him."

"Where is he?"

"Off chasing after Qunari haters with Hawke. They're somewhere in Darktown, but that's all I know."

"Then just get back to the Hanged Man," I say, wincing when I stress the gashes in my chest. I rub the torn and bloodied shirt the rend in my armor exposes, hoping to lessen some of the tension in my muscles. It doesn't really work. I just succeed in making it worse.

"Come on, Glowy," Isabela says, wrapping an arm around my waist. "Just a little further."

"You have no idea...how much this hurts."

"It'll hurt a lot less when we get your ass back to the Hanged Man!"

I feel lightheaded. The ground is spinning beneath my feet like I'm drunk. I reach up to check the wound in my chest and find the bottom half gushing blood a lot faster than it should be. Losing too much of it. Need to stop, to...to...

I don't feel myself hit the ground.

* * *

><p>Why am I so cold?<p>

For the first few seconds, that's all I can think about. I'm cold. So cold. Too cold. Ridiculously cold. Then I realize my chest hurts so much I feel like someone ripped my heart out. I feel pressure on my collarbone just before something is pulled straight out. My eyes snap open and I scream in pain, flopping back to the floor without fight.

"Sorry, sis," Aedan says. "Had to get that out before giving you a potion." He crouches beside me. "How do you feel?"

"Like you ripped a metal disk out of my chest."

He chuckles, pulling the cork out of the small vial of red liquid. "In all fairness, it wasn't a disk; it was a really big piece of armor. Can you sit up?"

"In theory?"

"Oh fine." He props me up on his knee before giving me the healing potion. I force myself to drink it despite all the negative feelings I have towards potions. I've done everything I could to avoid drinking more since Fort Drakon. There were far too many consumed that day. Most of them were lyrium potions and I had so many in my system that I was numb for days after. They creep me out now. I even avoid helping make them when I used to be the one who would spend hours mixing ingredients so we could lob grenades at darkspawn and have potions as a precaution. I even threw a grenade at the side of Redcliffe Castle. I didn't blow it up or anything, but it served its purpose as a test. More like...a burning powder.

"Better?" he asks.

"Much," I say, nodding.

"So how exactly did you manage to do that?" Aedan asks, helping me to my feet.

"Oh you know. Big axe," I say, shrugging. "Bit too quick for me."

He raises an eyebrow. "And here I thought you were faster than everybody."

I laugh. "Yeah, me too."

My brother backs towards the door, smirking. "Well, we're waiting for you downstairs. Get a new shirt and meet us there. Okay?"

I nod, frowning. "Who's waiting?"

"Me. Leliana, Alistair, Isabela, Varric. Hawke and Anders, too."

"What's going on?"

"We uh...have a slight problem," Aedan says. "When Hawke got back to Kirkwall this morning, she took Anders and some others into Darktown in search of a Templar that kidnapped some Qunari straight from the Viscount's Keep. He killed them, and his followers attacked. Once they reported their findings back to Dumar, they went to the Chantry, and then to the Qunari. The Viscount's son is missing."

"The convert?" Aedan nods. "Bet you four sovereigns it's the Faithful."

He looks confused. "What do they have to do with it?"

"When Isabela and I were on the Docks, we caught a group of people, led by a Templar, breaking into the compound. I made her help me see what they were up to, and while we were trying to help the Qunari get rid of them, the Templar shouted something about the Faithful standing triumphant."

"So they're not just trying to kick us out of Kirkwall."

"No, it seems they're trying to do anything possible to keep Kirkwall free of people outside of the Chantry."

"Which means us and the Qunari."

"I hope they know it's going to be a lot easier for them to rid Kirkwall of the Qunari than us."

Aedan nods, looking at his boots. "Well, I'll be downstairs. I'll explain to them what we just figured out while you're getting ready." With that, he leaves, shutting the door behind him. I stare at the door for a minute, frowning.

Kirkwall would be in the same boat even if we weren't here. Maybe even worse off, actually.

I'll think about that later, though. I need to get downstairs and get a better description of what's going on.


	16. Zealots in the Chantry

"We're going to the Chantry," Hawke says.

"Now? It's a little late for that, don't you think?" Alistair says.

She shakes her head. "The Arishok said that's where Seamus was going, so that's where we're going." She looks up at me. "You up for it?"

"Naturally."

"Good, because I'm taking you and your little cult, along with Anders and Aveline. I don't want us walking into a trap unprepared."

"My cult? Thought you got in on that this morning."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Not used to it, I guess. But bring your weapons. I have a bad feeling about this, and I don't want to resort to fistfights." She gets to her feet and Anders does the same. "You got any armor left, Glowy?"

"My Warden armor will work just fine."

"Didn't get that smashed in by the Arishok's axe?" Miranda raises an eyebrow, but shrugs when I do the same. "We're heading back to my estate. Meet us there in an hour."

The four of us nod before Anders leads her into Lowtown. I glance at my three followers, but none of them are paying much attention.

"You still got that lute, Leliana?" I ask, leaning forward.

She blinks. "Yes. Why?"

"Because this feels like we're charging Denerim again and I think we need something other than Varric's stories to hold us over." Her face lights up and she passes Aedan her bow before she goes upstairs.

"The Orlesian plays?" Varric asks, seeming surprised.

"She used to be a bard, you dumbass," Aedan says. "Of course she plays."

"Name-calling isn't very nice, Cap," Varric says.

"Isn't calling me 'Cap' name-calling? Or calling Alistair 'Templar'? Or Elissa 'Glowy'? What about Leliana and 'Orlesian'?"

"I'm going to be honest," I say, interrupting. I point at Alistair. "I understand his nickname. I understand Leliana's. I even understand my own even though I'm not happy about it. But Aedan's? Where did you come up with Cap?"

"Seems like a man to give orders. Cap is short for captain," Isabela says.

"Yes, well that's stupid," Aedan says. Varric just shrugs and laughs, totally unfazed.

We sit in silence for the next few minutes, waiting the return of our bard. When she finally comes back downstairs, she's got her lute, the same one Aedan bought for her. If people think I'm sentimental, they should see her. Just because I've kept my Warden necklace on me all day everyday since the Archdemon...nope. She's far more sentimental than I am. Then again, that's a lute, not a necklace. A lute her husband gave her, so...

"All right, so what am I playing?" she asks.

"Something from Ferelden!" Aedan says. Alistair and I nod our agreement, but Isabela frowns, shaking her head.

"No, all of your songs are about dogs and how Andraste was from there. Do something from Rivain!"

Leliana laughs, shaking her head. "Not all Fereldan songs are like that. I don't even have to play one that needs singing." She picks it up again, frowning slightly. "In honor of the Denerim theme we have, I think I will do the one that I did the night before we arrived at the capital."

The Hanged Man is always filled with Fereldans that have left because they couldn't stand the memories left in that country. Tonight is no different, and I know someone in here is bound to recognize the tune. Enough of the Fereldans here already recognize the four of us and now that they see Leliana standing by our table with her lute, they're listening intently.

There aren't any words, so Leliana just stands there, picking at the strings of her instrument. Everybody listens, non-Fereldans included, but those that are here stare. The music isn't such to convey happy feelings. It makes you feel sad and lost, distant, but for some reason, she played that before we attacked Denerim, and the soldiers loved it. Every last one of them. They love it just as much now, clapping along to the beat of it and laughing amongst each other. Aedan joins in, grinning from ear to ear, and so does Alistair. I end up the only Fereldan in the room not clapping until someone grabs my shoulders and urges me into it. The Marchers here look at us like we're crazy, but nobody cares, and Leliana looks like she's having fun playing for us. The first time she played this song, we were trying to act like we were ready to go fight the horde, and now, as she plays it again, we're trying to act like we're ready to face the Qunari that are sure to explode soon. There's something about this song that brings Fereldans together the same way I tried to just before we ran down that hill. I heard soldiers playing it constantly after the battle, whether it was only days after or during the year the four of us remained.

When Leliana sits beside Aedan, a sober man stands, raising his drink up in the air. I recognize him barely. An officer from Redcliffe. I swear he was one of the knights I saw when we were talking to Ser Perth.

He hops on his table, drink still raised, and shouts, "To our Wardens!" The Fereldans echo the shout, raising their mugs no matter how drunk they are. "To our fallen brothers and sisters!" Aedan shouts it with the rest of the Fereldans, grinning like an idiot. He always was one of the guys. "To King Cailan!" Alistair and Aedan both shout it this time. "To the Hero of Ferelden!" The guys shout it along with every Fereldan in the room even if they hadn't joined in the other times. Even Leliana does, grinning when Aedan slaps my back. I shake my head, laughing, when the man standing on the table looks directly at me. "I remember watching that beam of light as the dragon died. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my entire life. I fell to my knees and cried even though I was fighting with a hurlock."

I'm not sure what to say to that. Everybody is watching me, Fereldan or not, and I can't think of a response.

"My squad thought you all died on the way there," someone else says. "We were ready to flee the city. And then we saw what he was talking about. There's no way to describe the relief I felt when we realized the Archdemon was dead."

"The entire city stopped," a woman says. "All the darkspawn, all the fleeing citizens, the soldiers. All of us stopped fighting to watch that thing." She shakes her head, looking down at her hands. "If I can say one good thing about that battle, it was getting to see the fear in the darkspawn's eyes as we chased them to Fort Drakon. They had been slaughtering and scaring us for nearly a year, and then they were looking at us, terrified. Even the shrieks were running." The woman looks back up, tears shining in her eyes. "It was wonderful knowing that we were only minutes away from finally defeating the Blight."

"I don't know about you three, but I thought it was pretty fantastic when we saw that army at the courtyard," Aedan says. "I was more than relieved when I saw that many of our men had made it."

"I was in awe," Leliana admits.

Alistair shakes his head. "There wasn't a better feeling than the one I felt when the darkspawn were all dead."

Now it's my turn, and I'm still at a loss for words. I can't understand what all of these people went through and they can't understand what we went through, but I have to say something. I can't let the silence hang like this.

"I can honestly say I was never more proud in my life to be a Fereldan as I was at that moment," I say. "Our country is looked upon like we're nothing, and yet, we're still the only ones that were brave enough to fight the horde without support from another nation. We were the first to put elves, dwarves, and mages in our army and fight better because of it. We were the first to defeat the Blight on our own. People that say Fereldans are weak or that Fereldans are dumb or that we're just dog lords seem content to ignore that we saved their lives. Nobody seems to understand that we have one of the greatest nations in Thedas.

"I've always been proud of being Fereldan and I always will be, but seeing how flawlessly you worked together that day...I will never forget it and I'll carry it with me everywhere. I'm not just proud of _being _Fereldan, I'm proud of the country, of everyone who followed us down that hill to Denerim, dead or alive. That took a lot of courage no matter where you stood, but you did it regardless, knowing you could die. And I'm proud of all of you. Of being able to say that I've fought alongside some of the best soldiers in Thedas, of being able to say I've seen what most people would call a miracle.

"You think watching the horde break was amazing, or watching the Archdemon die was beautiful? You're right; it was. But seeing humans save the lives of elves and vice versa, seeing dwarves protect mages, all of that was probably the greatest thing to happen in this age, and I'm glad I can say I was there to see it."

I smack Aedan's shoulder and whisper, "Drink. Grab it." Once he does, I raise my own, and so do the other three. "We fought the Archdemon, but I wouldn't have been able to kill it if you hadn't been there."

"To our soldiers!" Aedan says. "To the best damn army Thedas will ever see!"

"Damn straight!" someone shouts. We laugh, grinning at each other with the goofiest of faces ever. It's a strange feeling, listening to all these people scream and cheer about the four of us, but it's great. Leading is only ever worth it because if you do it right, you get people like this following you.

And I think it was worth it.

* * *

><p>I lead my friends up the stairs in the Hightown market, headed for the courtyard below the keep where Hawke lives. There's a small square garden thing almost exactly in the center of it and every time I see it, I wonder why they didn't just put it in the center. It drives me nuts.<p>

"Wait here," I say. The three of them stop while I continue on to the door. I slam my fist on it a few times before stepping back and crossing my arms. The rattling of armor sounds from behind me, but a quick check says it's just Aveline. She's pulling her ginger hair back as she walks up to my cult back there. She stands away from Leliana like she always does when the Orlesian is nearby, but Leliana doesn't seem to care, so I don't say anything about it.

"Ready to go?" Miranda asks as she steps outside. She has new robes on, black ones with a dark brown vest. I guess I can't blame her for wearing them. At least they have pants instead of those stupid skirts.

"Yeah," I say, leading the way out of her little hallway. Anders shuts the door behind them and locks it. "How's Sandal?"

"Same as usual," she replies. "Still rambling about boom shields."

Aedan laughs. "He still talks about that?"

"I don't even know what that means," Miranda says, shaking her head. "He didn't even start doing that until you showed up."

"I don't know, Miranda. You might want one," Aedan says.

"Why in the Maker's name would I want something called a boom shield?"

"Because that enchantment has saved me from being blown to pieces multiple times," I say. "And don't ask about that. I don't want to explain it."

"Er...okay?"

I check our corners before stepping out into the Chantry's courtyard. "No gangs? Really?" I look up at the rooftops, but see no one. "That's weird."

"I don't like it," Hawke says. "Keep your eyes open."

Leliana and I both pull our bows off our shoulders and draw an arrow. Hawke, Anders, and Aveline lead us up the stairs, putting the guys between the four of us. Leliana keeps looking to her right and me to my left, trusting the other to watch our backs. We both stop at the landing, watching the courtyard, while those five open the doors to the Chantry. I let Leliana go first before I follow, returning my arrow to my quiver and my bow to my shoulder. I still keep a hand on my frost-enchanted sword, eyes narrowed. As we walk, I scan the shadows for anything and everything, glaring at inanimate objects once I decide they really are inanimate.

"Up there," Aveline says, pointing to where Elthina would preach. "What's that?"

"Oh no," Leliana says, face saddening. She looks to me, but I already know what it is.

"Seamus!" I call, stepping forward. He doesn't respond, so the seven of us run up to him. The minute Hawke gets close, he slumps over. Her eyes widen and she takes a step back, overwhelmed by shock. I step past her and crouch by his head, feeling for a pulse. "He's gone."

Miranda swallows as I straighten, nodding. "Spread out. Search the Chantry. Maybe the killer left some clues."

"Do you still suspect Pet-" I'm cut off by the sound of the doors opening. My head whips and I don't need to think; with that many Templars and armed citizens, I know what this is.

"Serah Hawke," a woman says.

"Petrice," Miranda says, scowling. "I should've known."

She looks at me, glaring. I return the gesture because I know exactly where this is going. "The son of the Viscount, murdered by a member of the nobility and her heretic friends."

"We are not heretics!" I snap.

"The Maker only speaks to Andraste," Petrice says.

"Let me kill her," I say, furious. "Let me. Right now; I'll do it before she blinks and we can run." Without realizing it, I start to draw my sword, but Alistair catches my wrist, shaking his head. Hope is buzzing angrily and for once, I agree with her. I want to kill that woman in the worst way for absolutely no reason.

I guess I have a reason actually. She's starting a war with the Qunari. Aren't members of the Chantry supposed to be better than that?

I need to restrain myself. Can't do that. Wrong.

_Shut up! _I snarl. _Shut up shut up shut up shut up! _

Hope buzzes horrendously, fighting me for control. My body stiffens and I squeeze my eyes shut, gritting my teeth. No. No. No! I can't just kill her! If we attack first-

"Watch out!" Aedan exclaims, pushing me to the side. I snap myself back to reality, whipping my sword free the same instant. My brother catches a blow from a Templar on his shield before he pulls his sword out too. It really does look like mine. Almost ridiculously so. But that Templar has two swords, and from how he retaliates, I know my brother needs my help.

The others have gotten down the steps, but Aedan and I are still up here with Seamus' body, and the Templar stays, dueling with him. Aedan brings his sword up, preparing to slam the edge down, but as his weapon falls, the Templar blocks, crossing his weapons in an x. With a twist of his wrists, Aedan's sword goes flying towards my head.

"Woah!" I duck, eyes widening as the bronze sword bounces off the statue of the Maker. "Aedan! Quit hitting the Maker!"

My brother laughs, taking cover behind his shield. "Soon as you start helping me!"

Oh. Right. Yeah, probably a good idea.

I run forward, sliding under a swing from the Templar. Aedan jerks his shield up and around, slamming it into the Templar's hand. The mage-hunter keeps hold of his weapon and spins, slamming the flat of it into the metal shield. Aedan stumbles, but before the man can even try to hurt him, I step between them, blocking both of his swords with mine. He pushes down with enough force that I have to grab the hilt of my sword with both hands and push back. He forces me to a knee, but that also gives me the support of the ground. I hold him in place long enough for Aedan to recover and get his sword back. He swings with a total disregard of his shield, throwing everything into his blade. The Templar leans back, taking away his force, and I get to my feet, swinging my arms to loosen the stiff muscles. The Templar, however, has other plans, and disappears in a puff of black smoke.

"The fuck?" Aedan says, spinning in a complete circle.

"Don't ask me," I say. "Just...back to back."

"Good idea," Aedan says, turning. We back into each other, looking and waiting for the Templar to return. "There!" Aedan drops to his knees as I whip around, giving me the chance to flip over him. The Templar, who has reappeared, now swings at my neck. I roll beneath the blade, slapping the flat of my own across his calves. He staggers forward, but manages to block Aedan's attack. He retaliates by swinging both of his swords in the same direction. Aedan ducks behind the family shield as I get to my feet. I run back towards them and raise my arm, but as my sword goes down, one of the Templar's comes back, catching my sword. He spins, kicking me back, and attacks Aedan again. Aedan parries both weapons and bashes out with his shield, slamming it into the Templar's chest. The man flies back, losing his weapons in the same fashion as I did moments ago. Difference is, mine is right between us. He seems to realize this at the same second I do, and scrambles up, running for it. I push myself to my feet the same time he's on his and bring up my hand without a second thought. The eye flashes once, blinding him, and Aedan runs forward, driving his sword into the Templar's exposed back.

I retrieve my weapon, panting, as Aedan pushes the man off with his foot, a look of disgust on his face.

"Man, I hate Templars," Aedan says.

"Then why did you let Alistair teach you their tricks?"

"It's useful to know, but damn! That asshole was sneaky!"

I shrug, laughing. "What matters is that we got him." Aedan nods grimly, flashing a glance down to the rest of the fighting. Numerous bodies of fanatics litter the ground, but it looks like they've got it under control. Petrice is nowhere to be seen even though I get the feeling she'll be back.

"We work well together, huh?"

I look up at my brother, still breathing as heavily as he is, and nod my agreement. "Yeah, I guess we do." He grins, slapping my back like he always does, before he runs down to the rest of the fighting. I follow, sheathing my sword in favor of my bow. I join Leliana by the other, larger set of stairs.

"That looked like fun," she comments, whipping off another arrow into an unarmored man sneaking up on Aveline. The woman is like a battering ram, cutting through enemies just as easily and with just as much skill as Alistair and Aedan.

"Somewhat," I reply, aiming at a zealot archer. My arrow slams into her chest, blasting her off her feet with so much force that she spins.

"So tell me something, Elissa."

"What?"

"Have you always been able to do that with your mark?"

"No," I say, dropping a man approaching Alistair while he fights off two others. "It just happens. I don't even stop to think about it. I'll just suddenly be raising my hand and blinding people too fast for me to stop it."

"Like with Loghain?"

"Not really. My hand had been burning most of the duel, and I ended up just letting it happen. Ever since, my body will just do it without my consent."

"Ah. Sounds useful."

"I guess so."

Hawke blasts a man back towards Leliana and I, forcing us to roll out of the way. He hits the wall with a groan and sags to the floor, unconscious.

"You're supposed to kill them!" Aedan says.

"It worked out just fine!" Miranda retorts.

"More are coming!" Alistair yells, pointing to the doors with his Warden sword. True enough, several Templar regulars, archers and warriors alike, and more zealots are storming into the Chantry, weapons bared.

"For the Faithful!" the lead Templar shouts. "Kill the Agents of the Maker!"

"How'd they find out about the name?" Aedan says, eyes narrowing.

"Don't question it!" Leliana says. "Worry about it later!"

"Someone must've heard us!" Alistair says. "I thought we were alone, though?" He looks back at me, eyebrows knit together in concern.

"The library was empty," I say, nodding. "But there are rafters, and apparently we have enemies in Ferelden still."

Aedan's eyes widen. "We shouldn't have let Cauthrien go!"

"Worry about it later!" Leliana repeats. "Help Aveline!"

I pull my bow over my shoulder, and without hesitation, allow Hope to come out. My beins burst to life, glowing hot white, and suddenly, my muscles itch. I need to move. I need to hit something.

Especially these idiots.

I race after Miranda and Aveline, sword forgotten in its scabbard, and plow into the closest Templar. The rest of them bombard me with all forms of Templar abilities, mostly smites, but I have access to so much mana when Hope is loose that they barely faze me. I act as a distraction for the others, weaving in and out of fights fast enough that I'm not much more than a blur, and the Templars waste all their time on me, leaving my allies the untrained civilians to deal with. Once in a while, I'll stop to catch a Templar's wrist as he swings his sword at me, and then I'll punch his side with enough force to dent his armor. By the time I'm through with them, the Marchers are dead, bleeding out on the floor, and I'm waiting for the first Templar to attack me. When he does, I whip out my sword, casting a ward on myself strong enough to block his blow. His sword bounces off my armor harmlessly and I drive my sword up through his chest, frost enchantement freezing the wound over. His whole body follows suit and with a well-placed arrow, Leliana shatters him. Off to my left, Hawke is lifting two of them with a spell before slamming them back down into the ground hard enough to break bones. Anders is casting healing spells on the others, obviously saving me for last.

Before tampering the spirit, I cast another spell, sticking the remaining Templars to the wall. It's a lot like the spell I use to flip my world around, but instead, I'm using the energy to glue others to another surface. The Templars fidget, weapons lost, and shoot glares from their helmets down at me.

"How'd you do that?" Aveline asks, voice filled with disbelief.

I shrug, shaking my hands out after sheathing my sword. "Don't know. I just do it. It's a simple spell, but it takes a lot of mana. I can only do it when I have Hope freed."

"So I couldn't do that, but Anders could?" Miranda asks.

"I can't do that," the mage says. "With or without Justice."

"I also have the strongest spirit known backing me up," I say. "She doesn't even know what I let her do or vice versa. The farthest we've gotten is I give her emotions and she amplifies my body when we willingly work together. I get lots of mana, increased speed and strength, and she has feelings."

"Doesn't seem like a fair tradeoff to me," Hawke says.

"Well she can think, too," I say, shrugging again. "She couldn't do that before."

"You're making a spirit human," Anders says.

"That's one way to put it." I look up at the sound of footsteps. Leliana hears too and follows my gaze. My eyes narrow suspiciously and I reach for my sword again once I see Petrice. She's with Grand Cleric Elthina, babbling on about how this is our fault. Hawke steps forward to argue in our defense, but it's pointless. I can tell Elthina already knows. She's not even listening to Hawke and Petrice; she's watching the four of us, clear eyes intent.

"Consulting with the heretics, Grand Cleric!" Petrice exclaims desperately. "Divine Justinia outlawed it. These three need to be arrested, tried for their-"

"The 'heretics' did nothing but defend this Chantry," Elthina says, looking back to the mother. She blinks a few times to let that sink into Petrice's head before looking to Hawke. "You stand with the Captain of the Guard?" Hawke nods once. "The mother's fate is sealed, then." The Grand Cleric turns, going back to the steps despite Petrice's calls.

I hear the bowstring snap before I can do anything. As one, the seven of us look back to the hallway, and there stands a Qunari archer. I'm the first to look at Petrice again, finding her with an arrow protruding from her chest. I hear him pull his bowstring back again as the woman falls to her knees. Moments later, another arrow whizzes past my face and slams into her forehead.

"The Viddathari are of the Qun. We protect our own."

Elthina looks back down at us, ignoring the horned brute as he marches out of the Chantry. "Send for the Viscount. He'll want to know as soon as possible."

Hawke nods grimly, returning her staff to her back. "Of course. Aveline, return to the Keep and tell Bran to wake Dumar. Have him come here. The rest of you, get back to my estate. We'll think of something to say to the Arishok once I get back."

I nod before retrieving my arrows. Leliana does the same, and then we lead the others out of the Chantry. The bard is right on my heels the entire time, seeming to be striken. Apparently, she's still locked in that the Chantry is holy ground, and the fact that we just killed all those people in there bothers her. I force a smile, patting her shoulder, and she looks up from her feet to return the gesture.

As we walk down the steps of the Chantry, I get the feeling the Qunari are through. Something is going to happen when Hawke goes to speak with them tomorrow. And it's not going to end well for Kirkwall.


	17. Secrets and Burns

_I know I didn't really make it clear, but yes, while Miranda was blaming Elissa for Leandra's death, companion quests were being done, along with that elf-man's Fade quest (shhhhh I can't spell his name lol). _

I'm sitting on the floor in front of Hawke's fireplace downstairs, making little light wisps and sending them flying around the room for Sandal, much to his entertainment. Sometimes when one falls close to the floor, he'll catch it and hold it up for me to see before it explodes with a slight 'poof' sound. Alistair is sitting beside me, grinning, and Bodahn is watching Sandal chase the lower ones with a smile on his face.

"The boy misses you," Bodahn says.

I look away from Sandal as he stares up at the rainbow of light tendrils shooting around the ceiling. "Who? Sandal?"

"You were his friend."

"I still am," I say, looking back to the laughing dwarf. "He's the only reason we defeated the Archdemon." I form a wisp a little larger than the rest, black instead of blue or red, and send it up to the ceiling, frowning. It changes shape while the rest of the lights move away from it. The other lights do the same, taking humanoid shapes while the black one turns into a dragon. White, green, blue, and red. Those four are humans, the black is a dragon, and the rest are now black as well, darkspawn. The colors fight their way through the sea of black, but more and more keep coming, now forming on their own. Eventually, the green one breaks free of the fighting to charge the dragon. It isn't injured at all, not until the green light gets beneath it and shoves its sword up into its chest. The dragon flails wildly, knocking the green away, but the white light is now visible through the black darkspawn, and as it watches, just how weak and tired it is becomes visible. It casts spells, chasing and pinning the dragon. Minutes pass, but they feel like hours. Eventually, the dragon collapses, breathing heavily. The white one runs forward and the dragon prepares one final retaliation. It opens its mouth, purple flames sparking, but the light shields itself and runs through the fire, driving its sword into its head.

"Yay!" Sandal exclaims.

I blink, tearing my eyes down to the dwarf. He's looking at me, beaming, but for some reason, I can't bring myself to return the gesture. "Didn't feel like a 'yay' moment, but all right." I look up again, seeing all the black wisps gone. It's just the four colored ones, and the white one is fading. Ever so slowly until it's completely gone. The three others gather around where it would've been, reaching out and shaking nothing.

I force myself to look over to Alistair, but his eyes are wide. "You...you did..."

"It seems I did," I say, looking back up. The white light has returned and is now sitting, but it still looks weak. The other three are excited, taking turns hugging the white one, and that's when I decide to end it. I banish the light wisps, frowning, and get to my feet.

"What did I just watch?"

I turn to the doorway, where Hawke is standing, eyes narrowed. "The death of the Archdemon."

"Pretty!" Sandal says, clapping.

Hawke nods, smiling, but her eyes say something totally different. "How did the Arishok take the news?" I ask, getting to my feet. Alistair stands with me, walking up so close to me that I can feel his breath on my neck.

"He...wasn't happy," she says. "He ranted about how this city is a mess and about how it would be better off if we all 'converted' to the Qun."

"He's angry," Alistair says. "He might not wait any longer."

"He won't risk open war with Kirkwall though," Hawke says. "He has a limited number of men and Ostwick isn't that far away. And with the four of you here, people known to have been friends with one of the Qunari, he-"

"That doesn't matter to him," I say, interrupting. "If it did, he wouldn't have hit me with his axe. He had the chance to recognize me and he didn't care."

"He's not only risking war with the Free Marches," Alistair says. "If he's willing to start a war here, then he wouldn't be afraid of starting a war with a weakened Ferelden."

"Killing you _would_ piss off Ferelden," Hawke admits.

"And we have an alliance with Orlais," I say. "If Ferelden got into a war with the Qunari, Orlais would be forced to intervene on our behalf, and since Orlais is the center of the Chantry, Justinia might even call for another Exalted March."

"So if the Qunari attack Kirkwall, there's a lot riding on keeping you alive."

I shake my head. "It's not an 'if'. It's a matter of when." I bend over, picking up my bow. "And it will be soon. Whatever they're here for is bound to show up eventually and once it does, that's when they'll come."

"We should go back to the Hanged Man," Alistair says. "Ask Leliana to get one of her contacts on this."

I nod, looking back to Miranda. "You know where to find us if you need us. Come on."

* * *

><p>Theorn shoves the door to the tavern open, collapsing. His muddy robes are covered in blood and torn in several places. His staff, the one he's had since his mother passed it down to him, is gone, destroyed in the fit of rage the Witch of the Wilds had when she saw him. He supposes he should count himself lucky to be alive, but he can't help wondering what happened to Zarlyn. He hasn't seen him since he blacked out. Theorn smothers the feelings of worry to attempt getting on his feet.<p>

_Must...find Forgotten..._

"Theorn!"

He struggles to stand, using the wall for support, when a red-haired woman helps him up, face full of worry. Beside her stands the brown-haired Warden, frowning.

"We need to get him upstairs," Aedan says. "Go find Anders, Leliana. I'll keep an eye on him."

The bard nods frantically before running outside past the elf. He's as big as a human, but he has the facial features of an elf, and small horns sticking out of his dusty blond hair. Theorn isn't even sure how that works out, but he still thanks every god he knows everyday for his Qunari blood giving him more size. It has saved him numerous times. Now does not seem to be one of those times, however.

Aedan pulls one of his arms over his shoulders and holds it there, wrapping the arm between them around Theorn's waist. "What happened to you?"

"F-Flemeth," he says, wiping blood from his face. It doesn't do anything to help; the blood is dried to the side of his head.

Aedan sighs, dragging the elf through the maze of tables and over to the stairs. "Theorn, I told you before to drop it. I knew this would happen!"

"I can't," he says. "Protect..."

"Protect who?" Aedan asks.

"Agents," Theorn pants, chest heaving. "Don't...don't-tell...Forgotten or the...other two. Secret."

Aedan grunts, shifting his grip on his friend. "No wonder you follow us everywhere."

Theorn doesn't reply. He just lets the bigger man pull him down the hallway. He unlocks his room before he pulls Theorn inside. Leaving the door open, Aedan allows the elf to sit on his bed.

"Lay down. I need to get your robes off you."

"No," Theorn says, wincing.

"The healer won't be able to help if you don't take your robes off, idiot," Aedan says. He sits on the edge of the bed and pushes the elf down, looking him over. "The wounds only seem to be on your torso." He looks back at the door and to the elf, saying, "I'm going to go see if Elissa's back yet. She'd be able to heal these." Aedan pats his friend's shoulder before getting up and walking back out. He shuts the door behind him, and that is when Theorn sighs.

Safe. Sort of. Better than nowhere.

* * *

><p>Alistair holds the door to the Hanged Man for me and I start to go inside, but Isabela bolts out, muttering something back at us while she sprints towards the gates. Alistair and I exchange glances, confused, but say nothing. I am the first inside and the first thing I see is blood. All over the floor near my boots. Norah is scrubbing it off. Her forearms and her knees are covered in red, soapy water, and she doesn't look happy.<p>

"What happened?" I ask.

She looks up, furious. "Stupid Wardens," she grumbles, ignoring my question in favor of cleaning the floor.

"That didn't sound good," Alistair says. "We should check on Aedan and Leliana."

I nod, carefully walking past Norah. Alistair mimicks my movements as I turn back to him. "You go see if Varric is all right." He nods and follows me upstairs, but when I turn left, he goes up to the dwarf's door, knocking. I go straight to the room Aedan and Leliana share, pounding my fist on it urgently. "Aedan?"

"Get in here!" Aedan says, voice muffled. "It's an emergency!"

I open the door without another second passing, finding Aedan, Leliana, and Anders around the bed. I see mud-splattered boots past them, red dots mixed in with it. The floor is covered in more blood, too much for it to be natural.

"You're good at healing, right?" Anders asks, looking back at me for the briefest of moments.

"Yeah," I say. "What do you need me to do?"

"Get over here," he says, jerking his head for emphasis. "You two need to move. Go buy us some lyrium potions. Now!" Aedan and Leliana push past me while I go to Anders' side, eyes widening in horror. The elf is barely recognizable with all of the wounds on his body. A burn spreads from the center of his chest all the way up and over his right shoulder. Anders has damp rags on the edges of the wound and one on Theorn's forehead. Small globs of healing salves cover the marks on his face while the rest of it has obviously been devoted to the worst of the burn. There's a gash on his side that's very similar to the wound Alistair sustained when we were retaking Highever, but this one is deeper and wider, and it still gushes blood.

"Move the bed," I say, forgetting the state of the elf in front of me. He has numerous other cuts and burns all over his abdomen and arms, probably more on his back, but if we're to get both sides healed as fast as possible, we'll have to split the work. "Come on." I grab the end by Theorn's head while Anders grabs the end by his feet. "On three. Ready?" The apostate nods. "One. Two. Three!" We drag the bed out from beside the wall, leaving five feet of space back there. I point and Anders goes where ordered, the side with the most but smallest wounds. I left myself with the biggest and nastiest burn and the long cut in his side.

"You sure you can handle that?" Anders asks.

"Yeah," I repeat, nodding as I crouch down by Theorn's side. "I totally can handle this." I move his arm aside just so I can get a better view of the gash, but his hand forms a fist and he lashes out with a burst of frost. I yelp, leaping back. "We're going to need Aedan and Alistair here for this. We can't work with him trying to kill us." I look over my shoulder and into the hallway where Alistair is finishing up talking with Varric. "Alistair! Come here!"

The ex-Templar looks down the hall at me, waving to Varric as he rushes to join us. "What the hell happened to him?"

"No clue," Anders says. "He won't say when he's awake."

"Shut the door. I want you to smite him every five minutes," I say. "Can you do that?"

"Of course I can," Alistair says as the door clicks shut. "But is that a good idea with you two here?"

"We'll be fine as long as you keep him from killing us," Anders says. "Hit him."

Alistair inhales deeply, nodding. I feel my muscles tense in the way they always do when he prepares to smite a mage. My skin crawls. I don't like being around when he does it, but I have to, and right now, it'll keep me alive while I heal Theorn.

"You're good," Alistair says, heaving in a huge breath.

"Thanks," I mutter, turning back to the bleeding elf. I watch his face as I pull his arm back again, but he doesn't twitch this time. I sigh in relief before I start rubbing away the little bits of the salve around the edges. It's done its job effectively by keeping the torn skin from tearing more and making the wound worse. "It...looks like a claw did this. But what has claws spaced enough to only leave one gash?"

"Dragons," Anders says flatly, grimacing as he heals a wound. "Specifically high dragons."

"But they're supposed to be extinct," I say, frowning. "I mean, I know they're not, but I find it weird that they're all popping up where I go. That's a weird coincidence, isn't it?"

"I won't disagree with you on that," Anders says. "But you've also managed to find all the weird darkspawn. The talking ones, the breast-covered ones, et cetera."

"In all fairness, Broodmothers are everywhere," Alistair says.

I exchange a look with Anders as I ready a healing spell. "You remember Oghren, right?" I ask Alistair.

"The fuzzy-faced drunk?"

I laugh, shaking my head. "Yes. Don't steal my nickname for him."

"Anyway?"

"You should've heard what he called the Mother when we found her," Anders says.

"What did he call her?"

"Boobmother," Anders replies, chuckling.

"I'll give him credit. It's a pretty accurate description," Alistair says, shrugging.

My hand glows blue and I place it over the wound, ignoring the blood I get on me. Once I'm satisfied that it has completely healed, I stand up, wiping my hand off on the already bloodied sheet.

"Any ideas on how to heal this?" I ask, gesturing to the burn.

Anders shrugs. "Just heal it." I shrug back, but as I go to do as told, I leave my hand hovering over the mark, not wanting to touch the burn. "So Alistair. You're a former Templar."

"I am. What of it?"

"Just wondering how you managed to look past Elissa being a mage, I guess," Anders says. "A possessed mage at that."

"I don't know. Maybe because I never really had a say in becoming a Templar?" Alistair retorts.

I frown as I heal the part of the burn where it runs to Theorn's back. "You know, if we hadn't been friends, you might have never been sent to the Chantry."

"But then I also wouldn't be a Warden," he says.

"True enough."

I go to touch Theorn's healed shoulder and arm to put healing energy into his body in case there's something Anders and I can't see, but he thrashes and swings at me, hitting my elbow hard enough to make it hurt through the armor there. I wince, staggering back, rubbing my elbow. Anders pins both of his arms while Alistair prepares another smite. Once Theorn is dealt with, Alistair looks to me, inspecting my arm.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say, nodding. I move my arm experimentally and wince. "Maybe not. I'll worry about it once he's better."

Alistair sighs, nodding. "Just once can you worry about yourself?"

"I always do. Like a little bit." He rolls his eyes and I turn back to the wounded Qunari-elf, healing the burn on his chest. "Ready to roll him over?"

"Give me a second," Anders says. His eyes squeeze shut in concentration and I hear a faint popping sound. Theorn's entire body stiffens, but it looks like his breathing has evened out. "All right. Let's get him over before Alistair has to whack him again."

I start to help, but Alistair gives me a look and I huff, stepping aside. The guys flip him over, revealing the small scratches and the rest of the burn.

"You get the burn," Anders says. I nod, preparing my final healing spell, when the door barges open.

"We need to move!" Aedan says. He runs across the room, throwing his armor and weapons on faster than I've ever seen him move. Leliana follows and does the same, much to our bewilderment. "Now! Finish with him!"

"Why? What's going on?" Alistair asks.

"The Qunari are attacking, that's what! Hawke and Aveline went to talk to them again about some criminals who converted to the Qun before they could be arrested and the Arishok attacked them!"

"How do you know that?!"

"Because Aveline just caught us!" Leliana exclaims. "Hurry! We have to find them again!"

Cursing, I cast the healing spell on Theorn's back before I run out, heading into my room. I grab my pack from the dresser and root through it in a blur, throwing things aside that I don't want. I find Alistair's gift, his mother's necklace with the boom shield, and pull off the necklace with the weird lyrium. If we get separated, being able to sense the other three Wardens will be a lot more useful than postponing the Taint. And with Qunari, a boom shield would be very useful.


	18. Untimely Death

As soon as the five of us get outside, we know hell has broken loose. People run up from Darktown and flood around the Hanged Man, screaming. I can already smell blood. Plenty of it.

"Where did you see them last?" I demand, whirling on my brother.

"We were coming up from the Docks when we met up with them," he says. "They stayed behind to help people flee before the Qunari could actually begin their assault." He draws his sword, sighing. "They could still be at the Docks."

"Then that's where we're going. Come on!"

"Which way is faster?" Leliana asks.

"Towards the Foundries," Anders says.

I plow into the mass of people, pushing and shoving my way through. The others follow, but we make little to no progress. Scowling, I tackle the first Qunari I see, throwing us both into people and we clear a small path for my friends. Without realizing it, I threw him over with his shield between us, and now he uses it to throw me off. I hit several Marchers, slamming them into the side of a building. They scream as I crush and break their bones, collapsing in a heap around me.

I'm not sure what spell I cast, but as I get to my feet, my mark glows, and when I unclench my fist, the people I hit are healed.

The Qunari doesn't look happy about that.

"Elissa!" Aedan calls my name several more times.

"I'll find you! Go!"

I draw my sword and run at the brute standing twenty feet away. The crowd parts around him, so it doesn't worry me that I might hit someone. It's a fight in and of itself to get over to him, but once I do, he wastes no time in jabbing at me with his spear. I sidestep and bring my sword up the same instant, shattering the wooden weapon. He doesn't blink, so when he goes to hit me with his shield, I roll past the blow and drive my sword into his knee. The blade ricochets off the bone, but tears open the side of his leg on the way out. The Qunari falls, grunting in pain. I don't hesitate to cut his head from his shoulders.

Enemy fallen, I turn back to the clearing steps and bolt down them. I spot the others fighting at the landing above the steps leading into Darktown, but as I draw closer, the scaffolds above have their support ropes shot by fire arrows. The dry cord takes and tears almost instantly, causing them to collapse. My eyes widen and I dive back the way I came. The wood explodes into flames and splinters, throwing debris everywhere. I cover my head as a huge chunk sails over me, slamming into the vendor's stall. I look back, but the whole path is blocked by wood and fire. Can't go that way.

I sheathe my sword as I get to my feet, deciding on going around. I sprint my way back up to the Hanged Man, blasting the Qunari with ice shards before continuing. As I turn down the street, I hear a Qunari shouting orders in Qunlat. They block my way forward, but they aren't facing me. They're facing something in the courtyard ahead, weapons at the ready. If someone is fighting them, then I need to get to their side. They can only be an ally, Faithful zealots or not.

Readying another ice spell, I draw my sword again and creep closer, waiting for them to hear me or see me or anything. But they don't, so I throw eight massive spikes forward, impaling the ones in the back. Unfortunately, their screams of pain alert their pals in the front two lines, and the new back line switches point to face me.

"Bas Saarebas! Kill her!"

Least that was understandable. Sort of.

I grab three arrows and whip them forward before the Qunari can even think about throwing their spears. Three Qunari fall as a result, but the rest bring their arms back and launch those things at me with everything they've got. Sword useless at this distance, I throw it aside and draw my bow while casting a shield on myself. All of the spears hit me, but they all bounce off my armor and don't bother me whatsoever. If I hadn't casted that spell, all of them would have punctured my armor and killed me instantly. I can't throw an arrow like they can throw a spear.

But my bow can fire one just as hard, and they don't have any armor whatsoever. They walk around in black pants with the occasional helmet.

I whip off enough arrows to drop both lines in such rapid succession that the Qunari don't stand a chance. This is a direct result of missing that stupid hurlock emissary back when we were preparing for the Joining. I'm not even joking. I've always been good with my bow, but that fuck-up made me think about where I placed my arrows faster and as a consequence, I've gotten really good at whipping them off too fast to count.

Once I've decided all the Qunari are dead, I snort and tug my bow over my shoulder before retrieving my sword.

"Where the hell have you been?!"

I straighten, grinning, as I look back to the Nevarran Warden. He's scowling, evidently furious, but I can't help grinning at the man.

"Here. Why?"

"We've been trying to reach you for days!"

"Only days? Well, then that explains everything," I say, shoving my sword back into its scabbard. "See, I've got this thing on my hand that screams at me to do the Maker's will, and right now, that would be protecting the resident Fereldan that has managed to work her way into Kirkwall's nobility. Okay? I'm a busy person, Cyrus." He scowls at me as I walk up to the small band of Wardens and I pat his shoulder. "You aren't going to say hello?"

"Hello, asshole," he grumbles.

I put my hands on my hips, frowning. "Is that how you talk to the Warden-Commander?"

"It's always how I've talked to you and you'll just have to like it, half-pint."

I open my mouth to shoot a comeback about Zev, but another Warden says, "Ser! More coming!"

"Form up!" he shouts. "Separate them!"

I force my way through the Wardens, standing between them and the Qunari. When I spot one of the collared ones jump off the rooftops, I point at him with my recently drawn sword. "He's a mage! Focus on him!" I cast another shielding spell on the Wardens and myself, adding, "Don't let them get you alone. Those spears will rip you a new one!"

We wait for them to get down before Cyrus has the Wardens rush them. Their mage disappears the moment we get close, reappearing on the landing off to my left. I make my way up to him quickly, but he launches a bolt of lightning before I can blink and my shield is obliterated on impact. My muscles twitching reflexively, keeping any wicked convulsions at bay, and I retaliate with a spell of my own, throwing him down to the ground with a brick laying beside my foot. A really big brick.

I leap down after him, rolling when I hit the ground. He's ready for me though and a million shards of ice, tiny ones, bombard me. I turn and cover my head, allowing the crystals to bounce harmlessly off my armor with the occasional one tearing open my shirt sleeve. Once the onslaught has passed, I spin on the ground, sending spikes of ice jutting up towards him. He barely has the chance to flee, but when he does, I already have a blast of fire waiting for when he reappears. I throw the fireball at him, incinerating him and any nearby Qunari instantly.

"You found Wardens!" Aedan exclaims, appearing from thin air to smack my back again.

"Cyrus specifically."

"Ooh! My favorite rogue!" Leliana and I both give him cross looks to which he responds by chuckling nervously. "You carry a sword. You don't count. And I meant rogue with daggers!"

"Uh huh," Leliana says, moving off to help with the Qunari.

I shake my head, patting my brother's upper arm. "You messed up there, brother. Big time."

He just shrugs as he draws his already bloodied sword. Hawke, Anders, Aveline, and Varric are moving to help Leliana and the Wardens while Alistair, Aedan, and I just stand here like stumps.

I blink once before running back to the fighting, leaping over a fallen Qunari to reach Cyrus' side.

"Duck!" I do, avoiding the dagger he throws overhead.

"You need to quit doing that!" I snap.

"Oh please," Cyrus says, snorting. "I've only done that once and that was to keep you from getting set on fire."

"That thing was _not _on fire!"

"They all were! Or do you forget the oil we found?"

"Oh shut up and get down!" I retort, pulling one of my arrows out. He drops to a knee to let me throw the broadhead into the neck of a Qunari. "Now we're even."

Cyrus rolls his azure eyes as he scrambles past to retrieve his dagger. I move off to help the only other Warden without a helmet on, a man with a huge two-hander and a lot of features similar to Miranda's. It's the eyes really. He's cutting the Qunari down easily, but leaving his back exposed, and even though I suspect he's got himself covered, I leap behind him, blocking the blows coming for his back.

"So you're the Hero of Ferelden, huh?" he asks.

"I guess so," I say, slapping a spear aside with the flat of my gold sword. "What of it?"

"I expected more," he says dryly. "Especially if you put up with those idiots." He gestures to Hawke and Anders as they lob spells into the fighting.

"I killed an Archdemon, kid. I'll kick your pansy-ass any day of the week without breaking a sweat."

Cyrus, who has appeared near us, starts laughing. "You never did tell me if you bitch slapped it to death!" He ducks a spear, driving his weapons into the chest of the brute wielding it.

"I totally did! Just for you and Aedan!"

"Ha! That's perfect!"

I turn, pushing the younger Warden down to the ground. I flip over his back and roll under an incoming swing. I keep going without hesitation, hearing the Qunari fall to the black-haired ass. Sliding under three spears, I leap back to my feet and shove my sword into the closest Qunari. Arrows hit the other two, making fleshy sounds as they sink into their unprotected chests. I make my way over to the archer, clearing the area of Qunari. With less pressure, Leliana manages to empty her quiver with more successful shots.

"You good?"

She nods grimly, frowning as she draws her daggers. "Watch my back?"

As a response, I sheathe my sword and pull off my bow. Leliana leaps into the fighting, completely trusting me with keeping the Qunari at a bearable level for her. She cuts through them as quickly as Cyrus is, helping him when needed and vice versa.

Lately, whenever I use my bow I have to aim to wound so we can get information. But now, I aim to kill, and that's what I do. I drop Qunari in groups, enjoying the use of my muscles a lot more than I do when I use my sword. The pulling in my back is a familiar feeling, one that used to calm me.

"Elissa!" Alistair's voice. I turn toward it, dropping to my knees when I see why he called out to me. The spearhead passes over me by a fraction of an inch, but before I can solve my own problem, I see a very familiar Warden sword protruding from its chest. Alistair pushes the Qunari aside and helps me to my feet.

"Are you hurt?"

"No," I say, shaking my head. "You?"

"I'm good," he says, frowning slightly. He looks around as the last of the Qunari are battered by Aedan and Aveline. I do a quick once-over, making sure no one on our side has fallen. One Warden has a minor wound on his upper arm, but Anders is already tending to him. Otherwise, no one seems hurt. Aedan embraces Leliana briefly before going up to Cyrus and clasping arms with the Nevarran. Hawke is going up to her uncle's home, probably to check on him, and Aveline is cleaning her sword. Varric is inspecting Bianca. The rest of the Wardens are standing together, speaking in hushed tones with the occasional glance thrown back at Alistair and I.

Aedan and Cyrus look between us before coming forward. Right now, it looks as if the only Warden not in Warden armor is Anders, and the feelings I get from the stares under their helmets says they don't know who we are.

"Wardens," Cyrus says. "Allow me to formally introduce you to Senior Warden Alistair Theirin, Warden-Constable Aedan Cousland, and Warden-Commander Elissa Cousland."

The seven of them line up and do the thing the Orlesian Wardens do when they used to show up to bitch at me. They clasp one arm in front of their chest and bend forward slightly at the waist.

"These are Wardens Ed, Blake, Aeylynn, Kyler, Victoria, Elizabeth, and Carver."

"Yes, the prick on the end," I say, rolling my eyes. "I know exactly why you look so familiar."

He sneers. "It seems nobility is the same wherever you go, Wardens included."

"Yeah," I say, nodding. "Explains a lot about you, kid."

Cyrus stifles a laugh, smacking my shoulder. "You don't need to be mean to him."

"He doesn't need to act like he's so important," I say, crossing my arms.

"Then what gives you the right?" he retorts.

"Shut up!" the woman beside him hisses. Elizabeth.

"No," Carver snaps. "I want to know why she's so entitled to lead us when half the Fereldan Wardens don't even know what she looks like."

I look down at my feet, laughing and shaking my head. Hawke calls out to me, but I wave her on. "We'll catch up! Warden business with your arrogant ass of a brother." She opens her mouth to reply, but thinks better of it and leads her companions away. Once they're gone, I walk up to Carver, arms still folded, face blank. He's a head taller than I am and it obviously gives him confidence because he straightens a bit and puts his shoulders back.

"You want to know why I'm in charge?" He glowers, extremely annoyed with the situation. "Because when there are five Wardens left in all of Ferelden, the one who leads them is in charge. Because when a Senior Warden tells you to step up and take charge, that's what you do." I point at the three behind me. "They agreed to make me Warden-Commander so I was able to lead that army to Denerim. After the battle there, I would've been demoted and left alone if I hadn't stabbed the Maker-damn Archdemon in the head! You know why Wardens absolutely have to be the ones to kill those dragons? Because if we don't, the beast's soul passes onto another Blighted creature. If we kill it, then it dies for good, but the Warden dies in the process. You want to know why I'm Warden-Commander?" I take a step back. "I'm still alive you idiot! That's why I'm Warden-Commander. The First Warden honored the ceremony we had in Highever and left me here, okay? So suck it up, junior, because I'm coming back to Ferelden the instant the Qunari are gone, and we're going to start disciplining the smart-mouthed idiots who question the order! Understand?"

He gnashes his teeth, but nods. "Understood."

"Good," I say, walking past the line of Wardens. "Let's go."

"Er...Commander?" I freeze, looking back at the Warden who has removed his helmet. He has brown hair cut short like Aedan's and brown eyes to match.

"Blake, right?" He nods, swallowing nervously. If I thought Carver was the youngest here, I was wrong. This kid is barely eighteen. Carver is somewhere in his twenties. "What is it?"

"I...I thought Wardens were supposed to remain neutral," he says, evidently nervous after my display with smartass over there.

"If we followed that rule, neither of us would be standing here today," I mutter. "And can you honestly say you'd rather let innocent people die than break a rule the First Warden set? You're Wardens for a reason. The Chantry says we give the biggest sacrifice just by breathing, so...no. None of you can say that. We fight darkspawn for a living. Our job is to protect people. That's what we're going to do. Any repercussions are on my head alone." I look back to Cyrus, nodding. "Let's move!"

0o0o0o0

I'm leading the Wardens up the stairs to Hightown when I hear the sounds of fighting. Someone screams.

"Hawke!"

My eyes widen. Aedan bolts past and I follow, running faster than I think I ever have. The rest of them keep up easily, and when we reach the top, we find the Qunari ready for us, spears flying within seconds. They are concentrated on Aedan and I, but a few spread, aimed for the others behind me.

"Down!" Cyrus orders. The Wardens hit with a metallic clang, narrowly dodging the spears aimed for them.

Aedan and I aren't so lucky. The first slams into the chink under my shoulder, another into my exposed side, and a third skims the outside of my knee. I fall backwards, rolling down the entire flight of steps. I hear Aedan faintly do the same, but that's as far as I get. My body burns everywhere, hurting as the spearheads dig further in with each step I roll over. At the bottom, I roll right over the landing and headfirst into the building behind me.

Andraste's ass!

I don't know how, but I use my left arm to push myself up despite the pain moving causes. Gritting my teeth, I pull the one in my side out and toss it to the side, putting my hand over the hole it left. I heal the wound before I go into shock. I repeat the process with my shoulder, sending the spear rolling back into Lowtown. Once I only have the cut on my knee to worry about, I drag myself across the ground to Aedan's side.

He's unconscious.

His armor is covered in his blood, leaking out onto the dusty ground. It smells like death from here. He...he can't be...

I push every thought from my mind, forcing my arms to do as told no matter how numb they are. I pull out the spear in his leg and heal it, moving onto the one that hit his stomach. I heal it, too, pushing extra waves of healing energy through him in case anything important was damaged. Then I throw to one in his chest over my shoulder with enough force I hear it splinter on whatever it hit. I've never been as mad as I am now. Never as upset, but I keep my head clear enough to heal Aedan, putting everything I have into healing the wound. When I'm finished, I sit back, eyes wide in horror. He's still not moving.

I don't control the sobs that hit my body. I'm crying before I can stop it, leaning so far forward my forehead is on his chest.

"Dammit, Aedan," I say, voice catching. "Damn you! Please, just...Aedan..."

My hand balls up into a fist and I punch the wall beside his head, shaking as the force backfires up my arm.

Someone pulls me back and we sit on the ground while I cry. I wrap my arms around the person, crying into their chest. Someone else is crying, but not the person holding me. He sits there silently, stroking my hair slowly.

Aedan...he can't be...my brother...my twin...

He can't be dead.


	19. The Arishok

_Longest chapter so far! Yay! And please, please leave a review. I love reading them! Thanks to you people who have favorited and followed so far!_

"We need to go," Alistair whispers gently.

"But...I...we-Aedan...he can't be..." I stumble over my words as Leliana whips around to face me, eyes shining.

"Can't you do anything?!" she demands furiously.

"I-" My eyes widen and I look up at Alistair. "Go with Cyrus. We'll catch up. I promise."

Alistair visibly hesitates, unsure of my decision. "Elissa, that's-"

I jump to my feet, biting my temper back. "I will not leave them without one of us! Go!"

He gets to his feet, too, clearly annoyed. Alistair grabs my upper arms and pulls me close enough I can feel his breath on my face. "Leliana's in no condition to protect you. I'm staying whether you like it or not. I can't lose you too." My mouth moves, but no words come out, so I just nod stupidly and turn back to my brother.

"Tell Cyrus to make sure Hawke doesn't get hurt," I say as I crouch down across from Leliana. She looks at me like I'm insane for asking her, but I wasn't. I was asking Alistair, and he knows it. He nods before running up into Hightown. "Leliana, I'm going to need you to move. If I make a mistake, you could very well end up dead again."

She gives me a cross look. "I'm staying."

"Then do me a favor and kept quiet so we don't have a repeat of Fort Drakon," I say, tossing her my gloves. "Put those on and get some healing potions ready. They'll keep me from shocking you if you're touching Aedan." The bard just nods, following my instructions to the letter. "Okay, after each shock, get a potion down his throat. And for both our sakes, keep an eye out for Qunari." Leliana nods again, angling herself a little better. "Ready?"

"Yes."

I pull off his slightly damaged breastplate and set it aside. If I get him up, he'll be needing that. Badly. I'll be able to fix it in a matter of seconds anyway.

"All right," I say, clasping my hands together. I set Hope loose so I can cast two spells at once. Her buzzing has turned into a furious scream inside my head. She's just as upset as the three of us. "Behave. We need to focus."

_We'll make them _pay _for this! _

"Yes," I agree, using my right hand to send a tendril of lightning into his chest and my left to push a wave of healing energy through him.

_The Qunari will regret today! _

"I'm sure they already do."

_Too many have died. Too many have lost hope. We _must _give it back to them! _

"We will." I make sure Leliana's clear before I blast Aedan again. She forces another potion down Aedan's throat and checks for a pulse. She looks up at me, eyes full of terror, and shakes her head. "We'll do that as soon as Aedan's breathing again, Hope. I promise. The Qunari won't get away with killing all of these people."

_I'll kill them myself. _

"You _will _restrain yourself!" I snap, preparing to shock my brother again. His body jerks in time with the jolt, but any burn mark I might have left is instantly healed. "The Seekers aren't happy as it is, and our involvement here will only make it worse."

As Leliana checks this time, her tears begin falling silently. He's still dead.

"Dammit, Aedan! I don't care how exhausted or tired you are, when I hit you again, you'll move!" Instead of using one hand for healing and the other to shock him, I put both of my hands over his heart, much like I did with Panicky over there, and send a bolt of lightning strong enough to kill four men three times over into his chest. Even with Hope free, the spell barely drains my mana.

"Watch out!" Alistair yells.

Without thinking, I stand and draw my sword. The weapon crackles in my fist, glowing as brightly as the mark on my hand.

If the Chantry wants Andraste's spear, they'll have to ask nicely.

I don't let myself wonder what the hell my sword just did. I bring my arm back and whip it across the bazaar with enough force that when it hits the Qunari, it keeps going. The only way it stops is by hitting the wall, lodging itself in the sandy mortar Kirkwall is made of.

Furious about the interruption, I extend my glowing hand towards what was once my sword but now a spear. The weapon dissolves and reappears in my hand, fitting perfectly.

"Did I miss something?"

My eyes widen and I smother Hope and turn around all in the span of one second. Aedan is sitting up, eyes somewhat distant, but breathing. Other than the rips in his blue and silver shirt, he looks no different than he ever did.

I'd freak out, too ecstatic to function, but there are more important things going on.

"You good?" I ask, sounding colder than I'd have liked.

Aedan doesn't seem to notice and he nods, reaching for his armor. I bend and lift it before casting a repairing spell on the silverite, and then hand it back.

"Thanks, Elissa."

I nod, looking down at the six-foot long spear in my hand. It's wood with a simple spearhead on the end, but I get the feeling it won't be splintering anytime soon.

"How did you do that?" Alistair asks as he rejoins us.

I shake my head. "I have no idea. I just...the sword just did it and I went with it."

Alistair shrugs, accepting my explanation. "If I weren't used to this stuff, I'd pry."

"I honestly have no idea, Alistair."

_The weapon is not needed. Let it go, _Hope says, eerily calm now. _Drop it._

So I open my fist and allow it to fall. But before it hits the stone ground, it vanishes in gold dust.

"Sure you won't be needing that, sis?"

"It'll come back," I say, turning to the steps. "Don't ask how I know. I just do."

"Well then let's go. I've got some Qunari to whack after that one."

I lead my small family up the steps into Hightown at a run. Aedan keeps up surprisingly easily, matching me for each step I take. Alistair and Leliana follow from behind, the former clanking just as loudly as us two while the bard runs silently as a ghost. Sometimes I wish she'd just wear metal armor like normal people, but nope, she's got her leathers and she seems happy with them. And so far, they've been just as effective in keeping her alive as my armor has with me. She hands me my gloves as we walk, but I only put on the one that covers my left hand, tucking the other away in my pack.

We find the Hightown market in shambles. Bodies everywhere, all Qunari, and the stalls are smashed. Blood covers the ground in pools every few feet.

"You're alive! That's-" Hawke is cut off by the Qunari mage stalking out from behind the gate separating Hightown into its own districts. It blasts all of us off our feet with such dizzying force that my eyes can't focus. The brute stalks right past us, past the Wardens, and right up to the apostate as she tries to recover. Hawke doesn't even notice until she's on her hands and knees, but by then it's already too late. Too late for her to defend herself, too late for us to even attempt anything.

He raises his hands above his head, fists crackling with the same energy I used moments ago. Then, out of nowhere, the lightning vanishes, nullified by some strange power, and suddenly, a sword protrudes from his chest. He doesn't have the opportunity to be surprised; as he falls to his knees, Meredith cuts his head and collar off. The Qunari slumps to the side with a thud, dead, and the Knight-Commander helps Hawke to her feet.

"I am Knight-Commander Meredith." She studies Miranda while the rest of us help each other up. "You are Hawke. Your name has been in many of my reports lately." She looks around, sneering. "And where's your friend, the Hero of Ferelden?"

"Over here!" I say, helping Alistair to his feet before marching over with crossed arms. "What do you plan on doing? Arresting us?"

She frowns, annoyed. "I will overlook your use of magic for now," Meredith says, looking to Hawke. She looks back to me afterwards and adds, "Yours as well."

Cyrus snorts as he walks up beside me. "You have no right to 'overlook' the Warden-Commander's use of magic."

"She is not a Warden," Meredith hisses.

I share a glance with Cyrus before we both start laughing. "Of course I'm still a Warden. Just because I have someone step up to take my place while I'm away doesn't mean I'm not Warden-Commander."

"You left!"

"I left Ferelden! Nothing more!" I retort. "We are people, you know. We can plan and plot just as much as the Chantry does." I step back, putting a hand on Cyrus' shoulder. "You see, Knight-Commander, I left my friend in charge of the Fereldan Wardens in my absence. He assumed the role of Commander of the Grey temporarily, and although the Wardens everywhere else know that, that doesn't mean Thedas understands that, or that the rumors fed from our ranks were true." I place my hands on my hips and step closer to her. "You can't touch me and neither can the Chantry."

She snarls angrily, but tears her gaze from my own and looks back to Hawke. They walk a little farther off, closer to the arches leading deeper into Hightown.

While they talk, Anders, Varric, and Aveline converse quietly, no doubt planning on what to do next. That's also when I realize I have no real clue what the hell started this, so I pull Aveline aside.

"What is it?" she asks.

"I know you took Hawke back to the Qunari Compound, but what exactly set them off earlier?"

"Oh," Aveline says, frowning. "That."

"I need to know. Please, Aveline."

"Two elves had committed a crime, and when I sent my guards after them, they were found in the process of converting to the Qun. My guards reported back and I went to Miranda because she'd had dealings with the Qunari in the past. I was hoping to solve this diplomatically, but when we got there, he had his men attack us. All of my accompanying guards were killed."

"That can't be the only reason. Worse things have happened between Kirkwall and the Arishok."

Aveline shakes her head. "That relic the whore was looking for? Do you know of it?" I nod, so she continues. "It was the thing the Qunari were here for all along and she stole it before we could catch her last night."

My jaw drops. Isabela betrayed us?! Betrayed Hawke?! And I was just starting to actually think of her as a friend! How could she?

"Guys!" Hawke calls her friends, waving them onward. "Come on. Meredith just said they're gathering their hostages in the keep."

"What on earth would they be doing that for?" Varric says.

"Mass converting," I say. "Force them to submit or kill them."

"Attractive," Meredith says.

I roll my eyes, beckoning to the Wardens. "We move!" I look to Hawke as they run past, saying, "Let us go first. We'll take the brunt of any attacks and keep you all covered."

She nods, but stops me before I can go. "What happened to your sword?"

I just shrug before racing after the rest of the Wardens. I catch up to them quickly, but we find ourselves under attack at about the same instant. Qunari fall from the rooftops, whipping spears the instant they hit the cobblestone. This time I'm ready for it and I cast the strongest shielding spells I ever have in my life. Spears bounce off everyone with metallic clangs, flying around the courtyard at dizzying speeds. Some of them hit the stone harmlessly while others hit their owners, killing, stunning, or wounding them.

Now would be a great time for my sword to appear.

_Call it! _Hope exclaims.

_I don't know how! _

_The same way you banished it! _

As the Wardens run forward, I open my right hand, half-expecting nothing to happen. But something does, and my sword materializes from thin air, dropping back into my hand in the same form it left. Guess it's time for me to start putting that day-and-a-half of spear training to use.

Too bad I haven't held a spear in sixteen years. But hey, what a time to start learning!

I scan the crowd of fighting, searching for people I can help, when I spot Alistair defending himself from three different Qunari all at once. I don't even look to see if anybody else could use assistance more than him; I run to his side, sweeping the butt of the spear at the ankles of one of the Qunari. He flips off his feet and Alistair slams his sword point-first into his chest, nodding briefly at me before he turns back to the other two.

"Quick question," he asks over his shoulder.

I step closer to him, pressing my back against his as a rather big Qunari turns to face me. "I might have a quick answer!"

"Where did you learn to use that thing?"

"No clue," I reply. "I've learned to just go with the flow."

Alistair spins, covering me with his shield as he forces us both to our knees. A spear whizzes overhead and slams into the Qunari I was facing just before it can follow through with an attack. The Templar keeps his shield between me and the fighting, arm wrapped firmly around my waist, as he throws up his sword. An axe meets the blade with a clang, momentarily deafening me. I shake my head to clear the ringing, but Alistair leaps away, leaving me on the ground. I scramble to my feet even though my head still spins from the clang, grabbing my spear.

"Varric! Look out!"

I immediately try to find the dwarf. He might be annoying, but he knows what he's doing, and he's a good man. I don't want anybody here dying.

I push out of the fighting, ducking spears and axes. Once I'm free, I look for everyone with ranged weapons, spotting them blocking the way forward. A few Qunari have decided to take it upon themselves to clear the way for their friends. I see more Qunari pouring out of the courtyard in front of Hightown's brothel and the one in front of Hawke's estate. Anders has turned to face them while the others focus on removing the four Qunari approaching from my side. That's ridiculous. More of them need to face the larger group!

"Cyrus!"

He looks towards my voice and I point at the idiots. The Nevarran nods, kicking the Qunari he was fighting before taking off in their direction. I bolt after him, praying that this stupid spear will change back into my sword. I'd ask Hope considering she knew about what it did better than I, but she's still furious, buzzing so loudly I can barely hear myself think.

Cyrus engages the first Qunari he gets to, allowing another to break off and focus on him. He blocks and parries with one dagger while fighting with the other, and it seems to work for him. To someone who doesn't know him, it really would look like he's winning, but I can see the desperation in his movements, so I put on a burst of speed and hit the ground, sliding the last four feet. I slap the spear across the Qunari's ankles and get to my feet.

Sword sword sword. I need my sword!

The third Qunari punches Cyrus full-on in the face, knocking him off his feet. Then he kicks me in the chest, sprawling me out on my back. Before I can recover, he steps over me, placing both of his very large feet on either side of me. As he raises his axe over his head, I throw up my spear and close my eyes, well aware of how this is going to end. He's going to drop that into my chest and neck, shattering the spear in the process, and splinters will fly everywhere.

I really am going to die. Great.

A metallic clang rings in my ears again and I feel something pushing down. I risk opening an eye to see why, but then I see the three-foot gold sword in my hand. My eyes widen and I force him to throw his axe aside and lose his balance. It falls less than an inch next to my head, but he gets it up again. I bring up my sword to catch the head and he pulls back. We do this another two times when my arm starts to give out. He pushes down with his weapon, snarling furiously. I somehow manage to throw his weapon aside yet again, but the both of us know I'm not going to stop him that next time. So as he brings his axe over his head, I let Hope free.

Craning my head back, I reach out to the nearest building and change that to down. My body whips that way instantly and I fall headfirst. I barely have the chance to put down as down before I slam into the stone wall, but I do, and when my world is righted, I push the spirit away. The Qunari charges without a moment's hesitation, swinging his axe wildly. I duck and roll, slapping my sword into the back of his leg. As he staggers, I get up and slam my sword through his back, effectively ending our little show.

"That's not normal!" Hawke says.

Blinking, I look over to them, where they're still acting stupid. "How do you think I got out of that pit I fell into?"

"I don't know. Normally?"

"Yes, because my sister is so definitely normal," Aedan says as he approaches with Alistair and Aveline. The Wardens are finishing up with the Qunari and Anders is retreating, looking a bit dazed. "You seen her lately? She _glows_."

"Like you're any better," I retort.

"Better than Alistair."

"Just on the battlefield," the blonde man says as he walks up to me.

My jaw drops and he grins at me. I can't believe he just said that! Dear Maker! He just...to my brother! "Wait! It's Tuesday!"

Alistair laughs, shaking his head. "I can't believe you remembered that."

"Of course I did. It was funny. Funny things were hard to come by with all the darkspawn."

Aedan and Alistair are laughing, but as my brother falls in beside us, he claps a hand on Alistair's shoulder and visibly squeezes. Hard. Alistair doesn't even flinch. They glare at each other for several long moments when Aedan starts laughing again.

"That was pretty good, actually."

Leliana and I share a look, confused. "Men," she mouths, snickering. I laugh, falling into Alistair from the strength of my giggles.

"All right, gigglies, time to go," Hawke says. "The Qunari fell back into the courtyard, so there are bound to be a lot more than before."

"Gigglies?" Leliana asks.

"We were both giggling," I say.

"Kinda funny, too," Miranda says, shrugging with a grin. "But! Time to go! Seriously! Get your Wardens and let's move."

* * *

><p>"We'll cover you!" Aedan shouts, ducking behind a column. "Go!" He waves an arm for emphasis, motioning for Alistair and I to follow Hawke into the keep. Templars and a few mages are fighting alongside the Wardens, drawing the Qunari away from the doors. Hawke and her friends have already snuck inside, but everybody else has been left to the free-for-all that is now taking place on the walkway.<p>

Alistair squeezes my hand comfortingly. "They'll both be fine."

I nod numbly, pulling my head back into cover. We're crouched behind a lip of stone that acts as a railing for the staircase. The Qunari haven't seen us. Yet. If we stay here much longer, they're bound to.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right. We need to go," I agree.

Alistair offers a smile before he stands, pulling me up with him. "Ready?" I just nod again, so he leads me around to the steps in a slight crouch, eyes locked on the battle the entire time. I keep my eyes forward, though, more intent on making sure no more Qunari pour from the stone building up ahead. "Oh damn! Go!" Alistair pushes on the small of my back, urging me up the stairs. Hand still locked on his, I bolt, pulling him after me. I look over my shoulder, but the Qunari that had started to come after us now has multiple arrows protruding from his back. "Remind me to thank Leliana later."

"As soon as you put on that dress for me," I say.

Alistair's face turns pink, but he just nods anyway, allowing me to lead. We still run up to the doors and when we get there, he drops my hand, bracing his on both doors. They swing inward in time with his grunt. "In. Now!" I slip through the crack and lean on the one to my right, propping it open long enough for Alistair to follow. He pulls me away from it just as it slams shut, taking the view of the fight with it.

The doors are solid enough to block all outside noises, and now we're alone in an eerie quiet, surrounded by corpses and spears. Blood stains the carpet and the tiles, the stairs, and even the support beams. I can't look anywhere without seeing red.

I cover my mouth as the smell hits me, gagging. "This..."

"It's horrible," Alistair whispers. "Almost like-"

"Like Denerim."

He nods, mute, as I step away, walking through the few bodies in the foyer. One of them has a hole in his back and a spear beside him. Someone must've pulled it out.

Someone yells something and doors slam from above. I look back at Alistair before running up both small sets of stairs. He stays on my heels as I run down to the public room where commoners and nobles alike would wait for the Viscount to hold court. Just beyond is the throne room, and when we throw the doors open, we find nobles cowering on one half of the first level, Qunari fighting with Aveline on the other side, and a shit-ton of then fighting with Hawke, Anders, Varric, and Isabela up above. Isabela is trying to keep the Arishok off the ranged fighters, but he smacks her aside like a toy every time she gets close.

"Elissa!" Hawke runs over to the banister, eyes wide. "What the hell happened to the rest of them?!"

"Fighting!" I reply. "It looks like the only Qunari left are either here or out there!"

She scowls. "Well why don't you help us?"

"Watch out!" Anders grabs her and pulls her aside literally one second before the Arishok's axe slams into the stone railing. It explodes in a burst of debris, showering the captives in stone and mortar.

"Help Aveline," I say to Alistair. He nods and draws his sword, shrugging his shield onto his arm. Then he's gone, running to her side.

I don't let myself start worrying; I sprint up to the landing and extend a hand to my side for my sword. The weapon drops into it a moment later, fizzling and steaming. I run straight forward, leaping to Varric's side. Because he's short, I can reach over him with my sword. The blade cuts through the chest of a brute while Varric shoots Bianca at a Qunari attacking Hawke and Anders. I whip around the instant my sword has followed through with the motion, blocking a spear coming for my stomach. The Qunari twists his wrists and swings the butt of the spear for my head, but I duck and push my sword up into his stomach.

"You good?"

"Go help Hawke and Blondie," Varric says, launching off several crossbow bolts in rapid succession.

"Shout if you need me!" I call back, sliding under a huge sword. The guards on my knees screech when they rub on the stone, but I don't flinch. I slide everywhere. I'm used to it by now. And as I get to my feet, I lock gazes with the armed Qunari. He doesn't hesitate to swing again, but Varric fires three bolts into him before his sword can hit me. "Thanks!"

The dwarf waves me off, so I turn, searching the area for the two mages. I spot them in a corner blasting Qunari that get within range. The Arishok paces just outside of their reach, watching for an opening. He gets his chance when Hawke is clipped by a spear. Anders stops fighting instantly so he can heal her, and instead of allowing his Qunari to swarm them, the Arishok decides to take it upon himself to finish them off. I sigh, shaking my head, and run after him, dropping my sword in favor of my bow. I don't want to be anywhere near his axe or his sword, but I have to do something.

Aiming at the Qunari leader's pauldron, I let my arrow bounce off the black leather-covered metal. It zings off and hits another Qunari in the chest, killing him. The Arishok whips around while my arrow goes rogue, glaring at me furiously.

"You are Bas Saarebas."

"Uh...sure?"

"You should be dead."

"Yeah, well I can heal myself, buddy." I return my bow to my shoulders and reach for my sword again, taking a few steps back before sliding into a defensive stance. His Qunari spread out around me, forgetting Varric and Isabela as they cut them down. Anders has Hawke on her feet, but all of the fighting has stopped. Alistair and Aveline are coming up the steps, but have frozen in confusion. We're all confused.

"You are ignorant and arrogant. We will rid the world of you."

"Hey, I take that as a compliment." I flick my eyes past him, checking on Hawke and Anders. Both mages are ready to go. "But you know what? I've got a better idea." As I speak, I drop the barrier separating Hope and I. In less than two seconds, I've run forward and drop-kicked that idiot back into the wall. I smother Hope, but the fighting erupts the moment my feet hit the ground. "Kill him now!" I shout desperately. One of the Qunari grabs my arm and throws me across the throne room. My back hits the wall with enough force to knock all the air from my lungs. I roll onto my side, coughing, when the same one grabs me by the throat. He lifts me up with one hand and slams me back into the wall.

He squeezes my neck hard enough that I expect to bruise, but I won't be alive for that to happen if he chokes me. I can't breathe. I need to do something. I struggle to pry his fingers off my neck, but it does nothing for me. My vision is fading to black and my body is getting weaker. I can feel myself dying. Any kicks I manage to pull off don't faze him whatsoever.

His hold vanishes so suddenly I don't have the chance to prepare my body for falling. I hit the floor with a clang, landing in a heap while I cough. I look up, holding my throat, to see an arrow protruding from the side of his head.

Thank the Maker for my sister.


	20. From the First Warden

_All right, so let me apologize for how long it took me to update. I was really busy with school clubs and everything, and then the first chance I got to write anything, I found out my tablet had deleted EVERYTHING. So I've spent the past several days angry at it and thinking of where I want the story to go. Sorry! :( Please leave a review guys. I only have five. :( Pleeeeaaaseee?_

I want to know how I'm still breathing. I know I hit that floor, but I wasn't...there...to feel it. I was out before I finished falling. I also want to know why I have a massive bandage on my torso and one running up my arm. I pick at the one on my right arm, frowning, when I feel the first stab of pain arc through my entire body. I bite my tongue, hard, and wince, refusing to scream. The wave lasts for several agonizingly long minutes, but eventually it passes, and I flop back over on the bed, panting.

"What happened?" I ask hoarsely. I was unconscious for a while.

_Enough, _Hope says. _You did enough. _

"I'm not stupid," I snap. "You did something, didn't you?"

I take her silence as my answer. Of course she did. She hates this city more than I do, but she does what she thinks is right regardless. Part of me knows that she's spiraling out of control, that she's turning me into another version of Anders, but I don't want to see it. I can't become what he is. I _will _hold Hope into one piece. I won't get Hope and Despair. That's like asking for an evil twin. And I already have Aedan. I don't need another.

"Tell me what you did and I'll try to forgive you," I say, running a hand down my face.

_There is no forgiving. What I did was wrong._

I hesitate. If she went on a rampage and hates herself for it...do I really want to know? I'll find out when I get up and go see what's outside that door, but do I want to know _why_? I'm not sure I could stand it. When...when Hope feels the bad emotions, there's nothing I can do to stop her anymore. The only reason I didn't completely go insane when Aedan died was because she was fighting herself as much as I was. It's a group effort for us, one we rarely win.

"Friends forgive each other, Hope," I whisper. "If you're willing to tell, I'm willing to try to forgive you. I promise."

_Let's make this clear. I'm glad that you're determined to keep me as myself. There aren't words to express how grateful I am, but we can't be friends. If we were, I might not forgive _myself _if I did something._

"Oh please. Don't tell me you're starting to regret things."

She seems slightly amused, so I take that as a good thing. _Perhaps I will elaborate once you already know, then. Is that fair enough? _

"Sure," I say. "I guess so." I look down at the floor, swallowing, and lean back, running my hand down the length of my wounded arm. "Will you at least tell me why I'm covered in linen?"

_Because I couldn't heal the burns? _

"Great."

_Or the place an axe hit. Because...poison._

"Even better."

She snorts. _I don't need your attitude, Elissa._

"I'm full of attitude," I retort. "You'll get attitude from me whether you like it or not."

_I don't need it. I can always shut you up._

"Oh really?"

_You're talking out loud with me, something that can only talk aloud in the Fade or when I beat you away._

"If looking and sounding insane bothered me, I would've crawled into a hole years ago."

_But then you'd be bored. And boring._

"I also wouldn't have to deal with you, Alistair, Aedan, Leliana, or anyone else I've come into contact with."

_You'd be a sorry excuse for a person._

"Hence the reason I have yet to crawl into that hole."

_That, and I'd yell at you every three seconds._

"I have my ways of shutting you up," I say.

_You're not going to win this._

"I know," I say, sitting up. "That doesn't mean I can't have fun with it."

_Like the Blight? _Hope asks.

I start laughing, but the sudden movement of my sides agitates whatever wound is on my abdomen, and I'm numbed by the pain. My entire body goes rigid and I grit my teeth, squeezing my eyes shut and my hands into fists. I wait for it to pass before relaxing.

"You know what? I still win this argument."

_And why's that?_

"Because I did defeat the Blight," I say. "I didn't think I'd lose for one moment."

I get her typical laugh, an amused noise that echos through my head. _You can lie all you want to whoever you want, yourself included. But you can't lie to me._

"Fine," I exclaim, refraining from throwing my arms up in defeat. "You win! Are you happy?"

_Yes, _she says. _But what exactly was the point of that?_

"Don't ask me," I say. "You're the one that started it!"

_You're a child._

"You have no right to call me that no matter how true it is. You've never once spoken to a child."

_No, but I know enough to know when I see one._

"You can't see anything unless I'm looking at it."

_You're completely right. So explain to me why you allowed me to keep watch while you were sleeping in those elven ruins we found Corypheus at._

"We've covered that I'm insane, right? Because there's your answer, you smartass."

_You're calling _me _the smartass? Look in the mirror! _

"But there's no mirror for me to look in!" I retort.

_Well, that settles that one._

"I told you I'd win," I say.

_You're insufferably annoying._

"That's the idea!" I say. "If I'm lucky, I'll be too annoying for my enemies to deal with and they'll just kill themselves."

_You win! We've been over this! _

"I like to rub it in. Make sure you know it."

She sighs, annoyed, so I drop the subject and look at the floor again. I want to get up, to move, but I'm afraid to. I've been injured so much, spent a lot of time hurting and in pain, that the idea of moving and hurting is appalling. I don't want to cause myself more pain. I've had plenty for one person. I've had plenty for ten people. Maker, when I'm done here, I'm taking a freaking break. I don't need to worry about anyone or anything for about five more years now.

But we all know I'll do something stupid. I can't go one week without it.

So, being as weak and afraid as I am, I lift my shirt up and run a hand across my abdomen. When nothing hurts in response, what little fear I can banish is gone. It won't be so bad to stand. Hopefully.

Maker damn it all, but I don't want to get up. I want to sink into that mattress and die here. I don't have the energy, let alone the willpower, to keep doing this.

No. I have to get up. Not sure why, but I do. I've put too much time into this 'Agent of the Maker' thing to stop now. Not that Hope would let me. She'd see me cold in the ground before I was allowed to be done. But I'm a determined person. I don't give up easily. It takes more than a comfortable bed to stop me. Usually.

Swinging my legs to the floor, I take a deep breath. Okay. I can do this.

I shift my weight to my bare feet and push myself up, standing on wobbly legs. I start to put my arms out for balance, but I catch myself before I can strain my sides. I keep them down as I stagger forward, falling into the dresser.

_That could've gone better._

"Thanks," I mutter. "I totally didn't notice."

Hope just goes back to her usual buzzing, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The familiar sound is calming and it helps keep me from lashing out and punching something.

I push my body away from the sharp wood, wincing at the newest wound on the palm of my hand. The edge of the dresser sheared through the linen covering my arm and hand, ripping open the new skin there. That stupid scar, however? Totally unfazed. Still there, completely intact. Because life hates me. I hope it knows I hate it as much, if not more, as it hates me. I hate the scar, too. There's an eye burned into my hand. When I first touched Andraste's sword, it felt like a butcher was carving in my flesh, but now it looks like someone took a branding iron and burned it into my hand. And it still looks like it was done yesterday. It never heals. It'll always be like that no matter what Hope or I do. I've learned to accept it even if I'm not happy about it.

"Hello? Who's in there?"

"Alistair?!"

The door swings open and his face lights up instantly. Alistair crosses the room in three large strides before he pulls me into his arms, sighing in relief. "Dear Maker, woman. If I knew you'd be this much trouble, I'd have left long ago."

I laugh and hug him back, holding my right hand out so I don't get blood on his shirt. "Who did you think was in here?"

"Well, I obviously didn't think you were awake yet," he retorts. "What did you want me to think?"

"That I was awake?"

Alistair snorts, tightening his hold on me. "I _thought _I lost you. That's what."

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm not trying to make you worry, Alistair."

He pulls away, smiling in a strange way. He goes to take my hands in his, but that's when he realizes my hand is bleeding. Badly. His smile fades into a frown and he walks over to a small pile of various things on a desk. Alistair roots around in it until he finds what he's looking for, and then he returns, holding my hand palm-up. With one hand, he holds the roll of linen he brought against the back of mine and with the other he winds it around.

"Better?" Alistair asks once he finishes.

I shrug weakly as I look up to meet his eyes. "More or less." The corner of his mouth curves into a grin as he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. The kiss is short, brief, but it makes my heart flutter all the same, and it still brings a smile to my face. It's all the little things. Everything he does for me. That's why I love him so much.

"I'm glad to see you're okay," he says. "More than glad. Ecstatic."

I smirk and stand up on my toes to kiss his cheek. When I drop back down, I'm rewarded with his usual blush. "I love you, too, Alistair. Always."

That smile I get in response makes my heart melt. He kisses the fingers on my left hand with a goofy grin on his face despite the blush. It's so sweet I'm not sure what to do with myself. He's such a wonderful man. I've no idea how I ended up with someone like him.

"Love you, too, Liss."

"Liss?"

Alistair shrugs sheepishly. "You don't like it? I mean, I don't _have _to call you that. I could always come up with something else-"

I shake my head, laughing. "I was just surprised. Don't worry about it." Alistair grins uncertainly, still nervous. "It's really sweet that you'd do that."

"Really?" he asks, confused and surprised at the same time.

"After five years, you still have no idea just how charming you are, do you?"

He looks at me innocently, shaking his head. "Is that bad?"

"Now you're lying to me," I say. "You _know _you're charming."

Alistair blushes and looks at his feet awkwardly. "Is that...all I am?"

"You know, normally the man reassures the woman that she's not all weird."

"I...uh...I-"

I smirk, amused. "Alistair, you're the most irresistible, kind, and handsome man on the face of Thedas, and you know it. You could charm _anyone _into sleeping with you."

His face turns an even brighter shade of red. "Maybe I just want to be charming for you?"

I stand up on my toes again and kiss him gently. "That's cheating." I step away from him, hands on my hips. "I'm hurt. Don't be all cute when I'm hurt. It's not fair."

Alistair's blush goes away as he gains more confidence. "How's it not fair? You stand around being all beautiful like that when you're hurt and I can't touch you until you're better. How's _that _fair?"

"Pfft. I'm not all that pretty. I'm covered in bandages and blood."

He frowns and steps within my personal space, wrapping his arms around me. He stares at me for a minute, face frozen in that confused frown of his, before he presses his lips to my forehead. "Say whatever you like, Liss. That doesn't make it true. And I definitely don't agree with it."

I lean my head on his chest, sighing. "I told you. You really can convince anyone to sleep with you."

He looks down at me, grinning mischievously. "Too bad you're hurt, right?"

"Right," I agree, laughing at the look on his face. "Maybe when I'm not hurt, yes?" He starts stumbling over his words, much to my amusement. I pat his shoulder as I twist free from his grasp. "It's pretty bad. You'll just have to take care of yourself."

He visibly cringes at the thought and I just keep laughing.

* * *

><p>"Elissa!" Leliana grins at the sight of me while my brother grabs me in a bear hug, shuddering with his sigh. "Maker, sis. We really thought you were gone that time."<p>

"Yeah, that's the impression I got from Alistair," I say, groaning. "But if you don't mind, I'm still hurt, and you're not helping matters."

"Oops, sorry," Aedan says, releasing me immediately. I smile gratefully, rubbing my arms to help get the blood flowing.

"So what have I missed?" I ask. Aedan hesitates, looking away in obvious nervousness. He opens his mouth, but shuts it again and again. He looks like a fish. "Uh...Aedan? Come on; just tell me. It can't be that bad."

The three of them laugh. "Oh yes it is," Alistair says.

"It really is," Leliana agrees.

"You might shit yourself, honestly," Aedan says. He pulls an envelope from his pocket and hands it to me, frowning. "Leliana is leaving for Orlais so she can figure out if the Divine ordered our outcasting or if it was the Faithful. And...that came for you yesterday."

All I have to see is the griffon stamped on the red wax seal to know what's going on. I sigh, annoyed and mildly angry, as I tear it open. "It's from Weisshaupt." Aedan nods, seemingly expecting that answer.

"A Warden delivered it. He sounded like he was one of the Anders."

I skim the message written in fancy handwriting. As I read, my eyebrows knit together in confusion, and then I roll it up and toss it in the nearby firepit. "Well that's a total clusterfuck in and of itself."

"Why? What was it?" Alistair asks.

"The First Warden wants me to return to Ferelden or face some sort of punishment for abandoning my post," I say, frowning. "He said we need a ranking Warden in charge of the Order at all times."

Aedan and Alistair look just as confused as I am. "So what are you going to do? We're supposed to stay here and-"

I raise a hand to cut Aedan off. "Easy. I refuse."

"But we-"

"Oh, I'll go back to Ferelden. There are things I need to clear up and check on, yes. You all know. But then I'll come back here and I won't leave until I'm satisfied that Hawke is safe and Anders does what he needs to." I shake my head. "He's not in charge of me and he knows it. Even if he's in charge of the entire Order, I'm still outside of it because I have other things to worry about."

"Sis, it's not a good idea to go against the First Warden's orders," Aedan says softly.

I snort. "Please, brother. If angering him mattered to me, I would've just died killing the Archdemon."

"Er...you did," Alistair says.

"Then I would've stayed dead," I say. "But he doesn't matter to me. I couldn't care less about him. What _does _matter to me are the four of us. And that's all. As long as you three are safe, I'm happy. I'll do what the Maker tells me to, but I won't listen to a man who claims to be a Warden without ever seeing darkspawn. If anything, I'll respect his title. He's the First Warden and I'll act like it. I just won't listen."

Aedan shakes his head, laughing bitterly. "Yet you expect obedience in our Wardens."

"Because I feel like I've earned some respect from them. I feel that we deserve it after what we went through. For Maker's sake, Aedan, Leliana's not even a Warden and they're more willing to listen to her than the idiot at Weisshaupt!"

Aedan hesitates, biting his lip, but nods. "Of course. I understand."

I nod too, briskly. "Glad I've made my point. Now let's get a move on. I want Cyrus and one of the Wardens he brought to stay here until we return. Then we need to go about securing passage to Ferelden for us and Orlais for Leliana."


	21. Another Wedding

_So yes, there's a time skip here, but nothing major like how the game goes. And I can assume you know what it's about. Fluffy stuffs within! Read at your own risk! ;) R&R please! I love to hear your thoughts, guys! _

"Stupid dresses," I grumble.

Leliana laughs that lilting noise I've come to accept. When we first met, I thought she was an enemy. I thought she was trying to get on Aedan's good side so she could get into our group. I thought she was nuts, insane in believing her vision, but after my trip to the Temple of Sacred Ashes, I started to believe her. Maybe the Maker did send her to help us. He knew what was going to happen to me. Maybe He thought I could use a friend.

"Stop complaining," she says. "You look fine."

"Yes, but it's a dress, Leliana. I _hate _dresses."

"More than darkspawn?"

"Maker, yes! Are you crazy? Have you seen me in a dress? I look like a recruit in his armor for the first time! I stumble and trip everywhere!"

She shakes her head, rolling her eyes in amusement. "You're a chore to deal with."

I shoot her a glare through the mirror as she pulls my hair back into a bun for me. "Maybe I hate you more than dresses and darkspawn."

"I'm holding a sharp object to your head."

"Love you, too sis."

The Orlesian giggles. "You're starting to sound like Aedan."

"Dear Maker, have you heard what he's been calling Alistair?"

"Yes."

"I haven't heard Aedan call anyone 'bro' since he finished his combat training. It's always 'brother.' He doesn't even call Fergus that. It's weird."

She shrugs. "Let's face it, Liss." Alistair got everyone in on calling me that on the way back from Kirkwall. It doesn't bother me anymore. I'm not even surprised. "After going through the Blight together, they share a deeper bond than what Fergus could ever claim to have with him. They're closer than you think."

I shudder. "Bad thoughts, Leliana!"

She thwacks my shoulder, grimacing. "You're as bad as Zevran sometimes."

"Oh well," I say. "Life's not fun without vulgar jokes. Even you have to agree with that."

"I suppose I do," Leliana says, nodding. "But anyway, we all got closer than most families ever could." She frowns as she pulls a pin through my hair. "Aedan found his sense of humor again because you showed yours. Alistair found acceptance with you. I found a sister."

"What sense of humor are you talking about? I didn't have one until I met Alistair at Ostagar."

Leliana sighs, huffing. "My point is, there's something different about the friends you make during war. They feel more...permanent." She puts another pin through my wheat-colored hair. "You rely on each other more than you do with people you just meet and like. You depend on them for brief moments of stolen happiness. You take it and try to return the favor. You save each other's lives more times than you can count. You trust them to watch your back while you sleep. You bleed and cry and lose and gain together."

I hold back my nod and say, "I know exactly what you mean." We make eye contact briefly before she returns to her hair-managing task. "You know, I probably never would've been able to stand taking you along if we weren't desperate."

"I wouldn't have offered if I hadn't thought there was more to you than vengeance." She smiles. "You and Aedan grew a lot during the Blight."

"How so?"

"For one, Aedan learned to not be such an uptight ass," Leliana says. I laugh, barely moving my head to nod my agreement. "You're still reckless, but you try not to be. And you both put revenge second and the Blight first."

"Mostly," I admit. "But we all grew up a little. Except Wynne. She's still the same."

Leliana smirks at me. "Morrigan became at bigger bitch."

"She still grew into it," I say. "You're not the same sister I found in a tavern."

She snorts. "I have my moments when I am."

"Not often," I say. "You're more harsh, but not in a bad way."

"How can you be harsh in a good way?" she snaps. "The only thing different about me is how willing I am to kill someone." Leliana looks like she's upset, but not with me. With herself. "Before I met you, Aedan, and Alistair, I tried to leave as many people alive as possible. I thought killing was unnecessary after what happened between Marjolaine and I. It's one of the reasons I went to the Chantry in the first place." She pauses for a long moment to let that sink in. "But then I met you three and I found something I had begun to resent during my time in Lothering. Love. Love was what made me kill for Marjolaine. I hated myself for what I was with her. I was a monster, killing for a stupid Game nobles play.

"You made me feel all of that and I started to hate myself again. I was afraid of becoming that monster who enjoyed the rush when I felled an enemy. I feared what I'd do. I hated my decision in going with you. I hated you because I could see the lack of trust in your eyes. I hated everyone and everything."

Leliana hesitates for a moment. "And then Aedan started talking to me at camp. He brought me out of my shell and when I laughed, I started to mean it. When I offered to help someone, I wasn't just being nice. I was doing it because I wanted to."

"Can I speak honestly?" She shrugs, so I say, "I don't think Marjolaine ever loved you, Leliana. I think you were just her pawn."

"I have come to the same conclusion," Leliana says. "It's why I don't hate myself for killing anymore. I'm not killing for a lie now."

"I'd hope not," I say, laughing. "We're a family."

She smiles. "I'm glad that's true."

"So am I."

Leliana pushes a clip of some sort into the bun before stepping away. "All right. I'm done."

I heave a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the Maker." I stand, brushing my sweaty hands off on my dress with a frown. Now that I'm not talking to Leliana, the nervousness worms its way back into my head. My hands start flexing and my heart speeds up.

"What's wrong?" I swallow, taking a deep breath. A very deep breath. I start to reply but my throat constricts. "Nervous?"

I nod, managing to say, "Very."

She laughs, crossing her arms. "Well then imagine how Alistair is feeling right now. He has Aedan _and _Fergus to entertain for another hour."

"That's not funny."

"Oh, yes it is," Leliana says, waving over her shoulder at me as she walks to the door. "Let me go find the Teyrna. I'm sure she will want to see you."

* * *

><p>Alistair wants to crawl back into that ditch Cyrus left him in all those years ago. He's so nervous he feels like his heart is going to hammer out of his chest. He finds it surprising that no one has asked him about it; he's so sure everyone can hear it.<p>

Annoyed, he wipes his sweaty palms off on his pants. Then he starts playing with them, folding them up and then clenching them into fists, relaxing them to be palm up at the ceiling, and then repeating the process. He has no idea how he's supposed to do this. The very thought of getting married makes his muscles clench. His stomach has been in knots for hours. He's sweating more than he ever has, including battle. Right now, Alistair is terrified, absolutely terrified, of what is about to happen. And he is mad at himself for being as scared as he is. He's usually a brave man, or he likes to think so. Give him a sword and a shield, and he'll charge at whatever he's told to.

But put him in a party of sorts and tell him to be at the center of it? He'd take darkspawn any day of the week over the party. The only reason he's still here is because he _has _to see her. She rarely goes somewhere out of her armor, and when she does, she wears a shirt, trousers, and boots like a man. Alistair knows he can be naive at times. He knows he can be the biggest fool on Thedas, but he's not foolish enough to pass up his chance to see Elissa in a dress. That's the only thing that keeps him in place.

He still toys with the idea of running when Aedan claps him on the back. Alistair almost jumps out of his skin, much to the older man's delight.

"What's up with you today?" Aedan asks.

"Were you nervous?" Alistair blurts, unable to help himself. If he knows it's normal to be as nervous as he is, he might feel a little better.

Aedan shrugs. "More or less. Depends on how nervous you are. I was about ready to take my sword and run myself through with it."

Alistair laughs weakly. "I'm about ready to make a run for it."

Aedan grins, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You think my sister is beautiful?" Alistair hesitates, expecting it to be a trick question, but he nods anyway. "Then you'll want to stick around. What Leliana did to her was amazing. I barely recognized her."

Alistair groans. "You're killing me."

"That's the idea!"

* * *

><p>He's still fidgeting with his clothing when he sees her. His eyes widen and it takes all of his willpower to keep his mouth shut, but he does, forcing that urge to become a smile. He's so glad he doesn't have to talk for a while yet. It'll take him some time to regain his wits. If that is even possible. He can hardly breathe now. How is he supposed to talk? That's just unfair for him. He feels like his heart has leapt into his throat.<p>

And then she smiles at him and he knows he's lost.

Fergus gives him such a hard look when he passes his sister off to him that Alistair feels momentarily unnerved. But when her hand wraps around his, he can feel she's just as nervous as he is, and he feels a lot better, completely forgetting Fergus' warning glare.

"Glad to see you're just as nervous as I am," she whispers out of the corner of her mouth.

He grins despite himself as he leads her forward. "Ah, well, you know me and parties. Doesn't help that we're at the center of it."

"We'll be out of it soon enough," Elissa assures him. "Then we can go back to the ritual maiming and all that."

Alistair's grin broadens. "Good thing it's Tuesday, huh?"

She seems to ignore the remark. "Can I hit something?"

Alistair blinks, confused. They stop in front of the Chantry Sister and she starts yammering through the ceremony. They're not as close to her as for her to hear their whispering, so Alistair pulls Elissa a little closer to him and stares forward. "What's wrong?"

"My hand..." She visibly stiffens, completely rigid, and Alistair starts to panic. There are too many people here. Too many for that bullshit to start acting up. He doesn't want to put her through all of the questions and embarrassment that will bring.

"Can you ignore it?" he asks.

She grits her teeth and squeezes her eyes shut. "I have been since Leliana finished with my hair an hour ago. I'm not sure how much longer I'll hold out."

"As soon as we can, I promise we'll get out of here." He gives her hand a reassuring squeeze to emphasize his point, but he's not sure how that will help. He wants to, but he cannot.

"Maker, this is not how I planned today going," she grumbles, evidently irrtated.

"Just hold on," Alistair says. "We'll get Aedan and Leliana and go, okay?"

She looks up at him, eyes pleading. "Alistair, it _hurts_."

His mind races for a moment. Then he decides to squeeze her hand as hard as he can, begging that it will help her. "Focus on that. Focus on me, all right?"

Elissa barely nods, swallowing deeply. "I can do that."

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur for Alistair. All he can think about is an excuse to get her away for five or ten minutes. They just need to disappear. But he isn't sure how he's going to get them away when they are the center of attention. His mind can't comprehend any of the wild thoughts racing through his head, so he decides to keep it simple. As soon as he gets the chance, he'll get her off to Aedan or Leliana and have them find a place to hide while he makes up excuses for his bride's absence.

When she squeezes his hand back, he jolts himself out of his thoughts. "What?" He looks at the priestess, bewildered, but the expectant look he's being given makes him realize he missed something.

"Your line," Elissa whispers.

"My-" He cuts himself off and regains his composure as fast as he ever has. "I do." He mentally pats himself on the back for understanding so quickly, but then he's being told to kiss his wife.

_My wife, _he thinks. The thought makes him grin as he presses his mouth to hers. He feels horrible for her; Alistair can feel how tightly she's now holding _his _hand instead of the other way around. But they have to get through this first.

He has to give her credit though. She still manages to smile at him when he pulls away. It's mind-boggling for him. He's married. To her. To Elissa. He can't believe it.

Alistair isn't sure he ever will.

* * *

><p>Holy freaking Maker! Damn, it hurts so badly!<p>

Aedan pulls me into the first empty room he finds and locks the door. He barely has it shut by the time my hand explodes into a burst of gold light.

That voice, the feeling of dread it sends rocketing through my body...I get the idea He's not happy with me.

"_Love is for the weak! You are supposed to be in Kirkwall, Agent! Fix the Templars! Fix the Chantry! Show the people why mages should be trusted! You should not be in Ferelden!_"

"What did you want me to do?!" I demand, holding my hand to my chest. Damn, it still burns. I need it to stop, to go away. "It was either come here or face the First Warden! At least this way I'm closer to Kirkwall!"

"_You are still weak!_"

"I'm human!" I exclaim. "What do you want from me? You created us! You know how we feel, what we want, how we think. It's not fair to be angry!"

"_Life is not fair, mortal. I believe Hope has told you this._"

"Well, I know that. Obviously," I snap. "If you just wanted to yell at me, I'm done talking to you for the day."

"_You will not turn your back on me, girl. You will follow my orders or face my fire. It is your choice._"

I grit my teeth, but nod. "Fine. What is it?"

"_The elven gods are returning. You must attend to that._"

And then the glow is gone, taking the pain with it.


	22. Because Cheese

The moment he sees the Arlessa approaching, Alistair wishes he could vanish entirely. She's going to drop subtle insults, berate him for marrying so far above his station. He composes himself immediately and starts telling himself the same thing Elissa told him all those years ago.

_We're Grey Wardens. No one can tell us what to do._

Alistair stands a little straighter at the memory. He got through the Blight, managed to keep his best friend and the woman he loves from dying at the hands of a murderous madman, and got the courage to ask someone to marry him. He can deal with Isolde. She should not scare him, but she does, ever so slightly. She scares him in the same way the Teyrna used to scare him. It's a nagging feeling that reminds him of darkspawn, and he doesn't like it. Not one bit.

"My lady," he says flatly, bowing ever so slightly to keep from angering her further. "To what do I owe the honor?"

She outright snorts in annoyance. "You are a foolish boy as ever."

Alistair sighs, running a hand down his face. "Enlighten me, Isolde. What _idiot _made the mistake of inviting you to Highever?"

The Orlesian sniffs indignantly. "The Teyrna actually. She seems to understand how...demeaning it is for her second-born to marry so far beneath herself."

"Glad to see you remember Wardens lose all status and rank once they join," Alistair retorts.

"Oh, poor, poor boy," Isolde says. "Even if Fereldans had stuck with that tradition, Elissa's still marrying down. She's the Hero and you're nothing but a bastard."

"I like my life, bastard or no," Alistair says, clasping his arms behind his back. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other people to talk to."

In particular, the very person they were just talking about. He notices the return of the twins the instant Aedan shuts the door behind them. As he begins to make his way over, Leliana somehow manages to materialize from the crowd to follow him. She seems at ease, perfectly happy with the entire thing, and for a moment, Alistair wonders why. He's never understood how Orlesians can take crowds and parties so well.

"Delightful, yes?" Leliana says, a knowing smile on her face.

"I take it you heard?"

She grins and looks back to where the Couslands are waiting for them. "Only all of it."

Alistair can only sigh again. "That woman is infuriating."

"Oh? I seem to remember you saying that about Elissa when I dragged you out to go ring shopping."

"You're just as annoying," Alistair says.

The bard laughs. "Face it, Alistair. You are the youngest in our group and will always be treated as such."

"Yes. With all the merciless teasing. How will I ever survive?"

The Orlesian just laughs harder as they finally join the two standing as inconspicuously by the door as they possibly can. It's quite the feat considering everybody is doing their best to start a conversation with both of them. Aedan tries to keep up with all the people, all the voices, but it quickly becomes overwhelming, and he has to look to Leliana for help. Elissa just sort of stands there, smiling and nodding despite the anger Alistair can see lurking in her blue eyes.

"Excuse us," she says in a clipped tone, one that unnerves Alistair every time he hears it. He never knew the Elissa some of the guards talk about. The one that had no sense of humor and was so devoted to fighting that she'd skip food and sleep. He met the one that makes him smile and laugh, the one that is still determined to do what's right. When he met her, she had an awkward sense of humor that wasn't so different from his own, and her brother had been the cold and stiff one. They had both mellowed out after retaking Highever from Howe, but Alistair is well aware it still bothers them. Elissa will wake up sometimes, screaming incoherent things about Howe and the soldiers.

"So...?" Alistair says.

"I'm about to bash my head off a wall," she grumbles. "I'm done with Him and everything in between."

"I take it He was mad about something?" Leliana says.

Aedan almost laughs. "You could put it that way-"

"-but it would be a major understatement," Elissa finishes.

Leliana shudders now, much to Alistair's amusement. "Oh Maker. I hate it when you do that." Though they don't do it often, Alistair can understand how weird Leliana thinks it is for the twins to complete each other's sentences.

"Sorry," Elissa says. "We-"

"-can't help it," Aedan says.

The two burst out laughing. Alistair actually finds it slightly funny, but only because it seemed like they planned it somehow.

Leliana doesn't seem quite as amused, but she smiles anyway. "What was it about?"

* * *

><p>After I've gotten some food and water into my system, I calm down quickly and actually begin to enjoy myself. There's music and singing and dancing aplenty. People are chatting so loudly it almost drowns everything else out. Alistair looks a little uncomfortable with all the talking and congratulations people direct at him, but he seems to be entertained and happy.<p>

I made sure there was cheese, and plenty of it. I figured if he had to suffer something this extravagant, Leliana could at least put cheese out for him. I'm happy to say I don't leave his side again after that little...stunt with the Maker. He even looks to be at ease when I'm talking to him.

"Are you happy?" Alistair asks.

I blink, looking up from the floor. "Am I what?"

"Are you happy?" he repeats. "I know you heard me."

I smile, taking his hand in mine. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Alistair shrugs. "I just wanted to make sure. I can never tell what's going on in that head of yours."

"Lots of things," I say. "Like how I can't wait for today to finally be over so I can have you all to myself." He visibly gulps, much to my delight. I love the blush that creeps its way onto his cheeks and the way his eyes darken in the slightest. The contrast is extremely amusing.

"Is that so?" he asks.

I look away, trying to seem nonchalant. "I don't know. Maybe. If you're lucky."

"I'm feeling very lucky today," Alistair replies. The tone of his voice sends tingles down my spine. "After all, I did just get married to the most wonderful woman in Thedas."

I grin at him. "Then I suppose you wouldn't mind coming with me?"

"Going with you?" His face immediately drains of all color and it's really hard for me to keep a straight face. I purposely made that sound as suggestive as I could. "Er...where?"

I just hum to myself as I pull him along, weaving through the crowd of people as easily as my sword could cut butter. Most of the people here are total strangers, nobles I've never met that my mother and Leliana insisted that we invite. Sure, I know they're all Fereldan because after Aedan and Leliana's wedding and those wonderful assassination attempts on Queen Anora, I really don't like any weird Orlesians roaming Highever. Most Orlesians make me tick and twitch with their annoying accents and stuck-up attitudes. I didn't need another reason to dislike them. Hate them. Whatever. I've got one Orlesian I like and I don't intend on making that list any longer.

"Liss?"

"You'll see in about a half a second," I say without looking back at Alistair. I find it amazing that I have yet to trip and kill someone on accident. If I had any sense of balance when wearing a dress, I wouldn't mind them so much. But I don't like how they keep me restricted, so I tend to wear my armor or cotton trousers with a shirt.

"Oh, you're evil," Alistair says.

I ignore his comment and release his hand as we join my brother and his friends. I don't recognize any of them, but they seem to know Alistair and Aedan very well. Aedan is busy talking with one man happily while Alistair actually seems a bit more comfortable now.

"There she is," Aedan says, beckoning me to his side. I step around several people and push through a few others until I'm at my brother's side.

"You wanted something?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Well obviously," he says. "You remember Levi Dryden right?"

I blink stupidly. "Wasn't he that guy that made you drink weird blood?"

The two men Aedan were talking with burst out laughing along with my brother. "He didn't make me do it, sis. I found it when I was up in Avernus' tower helping him and I decided to do it myself. I mean, after _some _of the stuff I've drank..."

"Point taken," I say. It takes me another moment to realize Alistair's disappeared within the crowd, so I excuse myself to go back to what I originally wanted to do. My mother is only a few feet away with some others, totally oblivious to me and Aedan. I notice one to be Teagan, but Eamon and Isolde are nowhere to be found. Weird. Those three are almost always asshole to elbow. Oh well. I don't really have any right to say anything about that. My little cult and I are the same way. "Hello." I stop beside the Bann, smiling as politely as I can.

"Hello, Warden-Commander," he replies, looking back to my mother. She smiles at me and continues talking to the woman beside her.

"You don't have to call me that, Teagan," I say.

"I choose to."

I _told _myself to avoid Teagan just for this reason, but nope, my idiot head decided to come and say hi. Avoid the awkwardness and cold glares he could quite possibly give Alistair every time he sees him. Maker, why did I even let Leliana and my mother get involved? Ugh. This is horrible and I've hardly said ten words to the man.

I'm just glad I got out of that arranged marriage before I became a Warden. I'll be honest, I _did _like Teagan when we were teenagers. It's why I wasn't so opposed to the marriage my father and Eamon had set up. But I grew out of that attraction a few months before darkspawn were first seen in the south and fought Teagan out of the marriage. Literally. Teagan's good with his sword and shield, and despite how little credit I gave myself before, I'm just better than he is. I dueled my way out of that betrothal and dueled my way into this one.

I smile faintly at the memory. I kicked Alistair's ass that night.

"Elissa?" I blink, pulling myself out of my thoughts. My mother smiles, so I'm return the gesture, although I'm not sure why. "How are you feeling, darling?"

"Me? I'm perfectly fine; I couldn't be happier," I say. "Why?"

She shrugs. "You just look a little lost."

"Oh, I'm always lost," I reply, waving the comment aside. "Darkspawn and stuff to worry about, and here I am, wasting a day I could use to burn them out of their holes in the ground." Her and her friend look a little surprised. "What? I'm a Warden for a reason."

"You make it sound like you enjoy killing the monsters," the stranger says. My eyes narrow suspiciously on the accent. Faintly Antivan. Just faintly. I only picked it up because my late sister-in-law was Antivan and so is Zevran, who I haven't even talked to since the Archdemon died.

"Of course I do," I say carefully. "Tell me; if you were forced into joining the Wardens, wouldn't you try to find something to enjoy about being one?" I keep the part about my wanting to be recruited that day a secret. Only Aedan and I know about our desire for that to happen. We talked about it after we retrieved my beast of a mabari from the larder.

"I suppose so, Warden," she says.

"Besides," I say, "I have men roaming the country as we speak. When the wedding is over, I can always go join them."

"So soon?" the Antivan asks.

I glare at her. "And what business is that of yours?"

My mother gasps, looking offended. "Elissa!"

I snort and cross my arms, arching an eyebrow. "What? It's just been my experience that every time I see an Antivan, it blows up in my face. Oriana died, and then on the way to Redcliffe I got ambushed by a Crow and a rogue Warden. Is it common practice for Antivans to do things like that?"

She rolls her eyes. "Is it common practice for a Fereldan dog lord to snap at someone they just met?"

"Nope, that's just me," I say. "Problem? You keep reaching for your bag."

"Not a one," she growls through gritted teeth. She looks to my mother, smiling apologetically. "I apologize if I offended you or your house, Eleanor. Excuse me."

Then she weaves her way through the crowd and vanishes.

"I don't like that lady," I say.

"You don't like anybody unless they're Fereldan," Teagan retorts.

I shrug, smirking up at him. "Hey, I got an Orlesian in-law over there that I absolutely love."

"Ooh! One."

My mother sighs, running a hand down her face. "You are so tactful, dear."

"I heard Orlesian," Leliana says. "And in-law. Why are we talking about me?"

I have to stifle a laugh. Teagan looks so surprised by her sudden appearance, it's priceless. "Teagan just said how I hate everybody unless they're Fereldan."

Leliana plants her hands on her hips. "That explains everything!"

My jaw drops. If it could hit the floor, it would have. Several seconds pass before I snap my jaw shut and cross my arms again, fixing a serious expression on her. "If I hated you, I could just flick my wrist and kill you without blinking."

She grins. "Are you so sure I'm not armed?"

"I never said anything about my sword though. You gonna stop a fireball with a knife?"

"Perhaps I am too fast for you."

"Perhaps I could throw several."

"Perhaps my husband is walking around in his armor with his weapons," Leliana says. "Perhaps he has a shield."

"Perhaps I'll just kill him too."

"Perhaps I'll get you first."

Teagan groans. "Perhaps we stop saying perhaps?"

Leliana and I exchange a glance before looking to the Bann and, simultaneously, saying, "Perhaps."

My mother makes a sound of annoyance, much to me and Leliana's shared amusement. "And I here I was, glad to have the entire family in one place. Now it's turned into a game."

"I _am _an Orlesian," Leliana says. "And I have played the Game."

"Yes, thank you for reminding me," my mother says. "As if I needed to remember my son could become the target for a revenge-driven Orlesian noble."

"I think Aedan is safe," Leliana replies.

"Yeah. Any Orlesian assassination attempts are on my head, mother," I say. "After Fergus, I'm next in line for the throne, I'm a well-known heretic, I foiled an assassination attempt on Queen Anora, and I'm the Hero of Ferelden. Forget this white thing; I should be walking around in bright red. Save the assassins the energy."

"This is turning out to be worse than the Blight," Leliana says.

"Oh, I don't know. It's pretty hard to top chasing after a pack of darkspawn, but this is a close second. I mean, we did have to chase lots of darkspawn. And dragons." I shudder. "Too many dragons."

"You're saying you killed more than one dragon?" Mother demands.

Leliana laughs, shaking her head. "No, just Elissa. I've only seen one high dragon, and that was one high dragon too many."

My mother looks at me, raising an eyebrow. I sigh, nodding in defeat, and hold up three fingers. "The first at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. The second being the Archdemon. I killed them both. The third...well, it's still roaming the Wilds with its buddy."

"Three?!" Leliana says, whipping on me. "You've seen three?"

"The third is Warden business," I say simply. "I have men on it. I've had men on it since Aedan and I saw it."

"Are you sure it was a high dragon?" Mother asks.

"Nah, it flew up out of the floor of an old elven ruin we were...investigating. Killed one of my Wardens, too. I'm surprised we made it back to the outpost in the Hinterlands without it roasting our asses."

"Oh," Leliana says. "_That _dragon."

"Yeah. _That _dragon," I say, nodding.

"I forgot about that one," she says.

I had looked down at my feet while she spoke, but now I look back up at her and smile faintly. It's a weak gesture because we both know what that beast means. We both know where it's going to lead us and the rest of Thedas. "Don't worry," I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. "We'll deal with it when the time comes. It'll stay where it's safe, along with its master, until it is ready to come fuck Thedas over."

"You ruin all of the inspiration you might convey with curses," Leliana says, smiling weakly.

I grin, shrugging, as I drop my hand. "That's the idea. It's funny."

"Only on proper occasions, girl," Mother says.

"It's my wedding," I say. "And I'm a soldier by trade. I'll swear whenever I want to, thanks for asking."

"I didn't ask," she says.

"Oh fine," I grumble. "I'll stop."

"Good. Now go find Alistair and enjoy yourself. You don't get married twice."

"Well-"

"Go!"

I laugh. "It wasn't that long ago that you weren't very happy with our relationship." But before she can say anything else, I turn and walk away, heading back to the table with all the food set out. It's undoubtedly where Alistair will be. Where the cheese is, that's where he is.

Follow the cheese...follow the cheese to Alistair...

I need to shut up. Like...now.

But hey, I was right. Alistair is by the cheese. It's not really all that shocking. He's eating a piece of some random cheese I don't really care to learn the name of. I don't care. I don't care about anything right now. Nothing but him. I'm still in a state of shock about the marriage. I can't believe I'm married to the man I love. A smile tugs at my lips as I come up behind him and wrap my arms around his stomach, burying my face in his back.

"I told you to quit making advances, Aedan," Alistair says. I feel his laugh rumble through his torso in time with my own. "I'm married, you know. To your sister."

I'm so glad I said yes. I couldn't be happier than I am right now, hugging my adorably awkward husband.

The word feels weird. But it's a good weird.


	23. Leaving

It's too early to be awake, but I am, and so is Alistair. He's sitting up, holding me against his chest with a small, goofy smile on his face. It's funny to look at and even funnier when he realizes I'm still awake and watching him.

"You should be sleeping," he says.

I shift, sighing. "I'm not tired."

"Oh really? Not after that?"

I snort out a laugh. "Feeling confident in your abilities to wear me out, are you?"

He raises an eyebrow, saying, "So you wouldn't object to going again?"

"Oh Maker, Alistair! No!"

He laughs, shaking his head. Pressing a kiss to the side of my head, he whispers, "This is why people don't lie."

I wrap my arms around him and scoot closer to him, hiding my face in his chest. He smells faintly of sweat, but underneath is his usual woodsmoke and leather smell. I don't understand how he's managed to smell like that constantly, but I've come to like it. I only ever get that combination around him and it comforts me. Lots of things about Alistair comfort me. His arms, his voice. His presence. If he's around, I feel safe. Safer than I'd feel with an army backing me up.

"So why aren't you asleep yet?" he asks.

I lift a shoulder and let it fall almost instantly. "I don't know. I'm worried, I guess."

"About what?"

"All of the stupid stuff I've been dragged into since the Blight," I say softly. I flick my eyes up to his face for a moment, registering the concern etched on his features, before looking back down. "The Agents of the Maker bullshit. How am I supposed to do all of this? Reform the Templars? We've already covered that I'll have to fix the Chantry to even think about doing that. But I have to protect Hawke too, deal with elven gods, and figure out how to do all that with the First Warden breathing down my neck. I just can't. I can't be in two places at once."

Alistair hugs me, stroking my hair like he always does when I get agitated. "We'll figure it out, Liss. Just keep it together." He pauses to kiss the top of my head. The feel of his lips makes me smile in the slightest. "I won't let the First Warden hurt you. I promise."

"I'm not afraid of him hurting me. I'm afraid of going that far north."

"Really? Why?"

I swallow and shake my head. "Because I haven't once been away from someone I'm comfortable around for more than a day or so. The thought bothers me."

"What about during the Blight? You vanished for four months."

"Yeah, but that was different," I say. "I didn't know. I had Hope to keep me from thinking about how lonely I was. She kept me distracted."

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I wish I could've been with you."

"It's fine, Alistair. You didn't have a say in the matter and neither did I."

I feel him tense. "And that's what I hate about this. You don't have a say in any of it. It's just 'go here and do this' and 'go there and do that'. I don't like it."

"I'm afraid He'll take me again," I say. I hate to admit it. The very thought makes me feel weak, but this is Alistair, and when I'm upset, he knows how to make it better. He always does. I trust him to make me feel better.

Alistair wraps his arms around my shoulders and squeezes me into his chest. "I won't let Him. I know it sounds stupid, but I won't. You're mine, understand? And I won't lose you again." He rests his forehead on the side of mine. "I love you too much to bear it."

"I love you too."

He pulls away and takes my chin, turning my head up so I can look at him. He smiles in a sad way, but it's a smile nonetheless. He cups my cheek and presses his lips to mine in a gentle kiss. Alistair leaves it that way, breaking it off before either of us can get carried away, and returns his forehead to mine.

"I'm so glad I told you that all those years ago," he says.

"I'm glad I told you too. I'm happy to be with you Alistair. Even with our shortened lives, I'm happy to say I can spend mine with you."

He smiles, but this one seems more...real. Happy. "You know my Calling will be before yours, right?"

"So what? You were only a Warden for six months when Aedan and I joined," I say. "Mine won't be long after yours. I'll go with you when you go."

He inhales sharply. "You...will?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"Um, yes?" Alistair seems annoyed by my declaration, but he contains it. "I'd rather you stayed and lived for what little time you'd have left."

"Alistair, I don't _want _to spend any of my time without you."

He blinks a few times before chuckling. "You know that sounded really cheesy, right?"

"I think it's fair considering all the cheesy lines you used to get to me," I retort.

"Cheesy lines tend to have more meaning than original stuff," Alistair says, shrugging the shoulder I'm not leaning on. "And they're funny."

"Some of yours were pretty funny," I admit. "But only because you managed to even say them."

"Hey, when I did, you got all blushy and awkward too so shut up."

"With all the suitors thrown at me, you'd think I'd have been less impressed," I say. "But they never really cared about me. They were just after the marriage because it would move then up in position."

"Nobles are like that," Alistair says. I look up at him, giving him my best 'what did you just say' look, and he laughs. "Usually. You're not like that. Neither is Aedan."

"Hmm. That's what I thought."

Alistair sighs, shifting his legs. He pulls the blanket over us while saying, "You should get some sleep. Tomorrow is back to being the Hero of Ferelden for you."

"I know."

"Seeing Leliana off to Orlais, and then it's off to Denerim to attend Anora's peace talk with Empress Celene."

"I don't understand that," I mutter, settling against his side. "You and Aedan found that treaty signed by Cailan and Celene when you went back to Ostagar. Why would they need to discuss peace between Ferelden and Orlais?"

"Maybe it's just an overdue apology for trying to assassinate the Queen at Aedan and Leliana's wedding?"

"Anora said she did that already."

"Then maybe she just wants you there to remind Orlais they're still around because a Fereldan protected them?"

I shrug, closing my eyes. "I have to catch up with her caravan before heading out. Anora wants me playing guard."

"Well, I'll go with you. You know that."

I smile faintly, but before I can respond, Alistair's nodded off. My smile grows as I follow him into the Fade.

* * *

><p>I hate having to dress up in my armor. It's like...impossible. The only 'dressy' thing I can do is throw on a dark blue cape. I feel like an idiot. But hey, Alistair is obviously on the same page. He looks uncomfortable in his Warden armor, far more so when I make him put <em>his <em>stupid cape on.

"Remind me why we need to wear these," Alistair says.

"Because we stopped the Blight and we're going to court. We're expected to look as ridiculous as possible. Especially with Orlesians attending." I pull my hair out from under the heavy blue satin and rest it over my shoulder in its traditional tail. Only instead of having it thrown back and out of the way, I have it pulled out in front so I seem more...fancy. And stupid. I feel so stupid. I haven't gone to court as a Cousland in years. But I know how to dress like I am, so that's what I do. Thank the Maker I can go as a noblewoman and the Warden-Commander. Far more practical than as the daughter of a teyrn.

"Maker, I hate it already," Alistair grumbles. "And why do I have to dress up? I didn't kill the Archdemon."

I give him my impatient look, so he starts muttering his complaints to himself. I smile to myself as I grab my bow and tug it over my shoulder. Rolling my stupid blue cape off my arrows, I start out the door, Alistair on my heels. We make our way through Cousland Castle, passing servants who are still cleaning up yesterday's mess. They smile in greeting and we return the favor, headed for the stables. It's a short walk from the castle and we find Aedan as did Leliana waiting for us.

"Good morning," she says. "How was your night?" I laugh, but Alistair groans, embarrassed. "Shall I take that as my answer then?"

"Sure, why not?" I ask sarcastically. She grins as she tightens the strap on her horse's saddle. "When are you leaving?"

"Soon," she says. "As soon as..." Leliana trails off, looking up at Aedan. "I told you I'm not telling them."

"Telling us what?" Alistair asks.

My brother hesitates, looking down at his feet, when I make the connection. "He's going with her. They're both going to Orlais."

"Oh" is all Alistair can say. Aedan just nods mutely, visibly swallowing in discomfort.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, forcing himself to meet my gaze. "I know I should stay here and help with the Wardens, but..."

I shake my head and walk forward, resting a hand on my brother's shoulder in a show of support. "It's fine, Aedan. I understand. You go with Leliana and keep her safe. Alistair and I will handle the Wardens."

My twin nods again, saying, "If I don't go, Leliana might be forced into taking vows she wouldn't want to. I need to be there and I can help her."

"I said it's fine, brother," I repeat. "Just be careful." I pull him into a hug, my armor rubbing against his with a distinctly metallic sound. He hugs me back before sighing.

"You be careful, too," Aedan says, releasing me. He turns to swing up into the saddle of his already-saddled horse. "You keep an eye on her, Alistair. And don't hurt her, or I'll find you."

"You got it," Alistair says.

Leliana follows suit, lifting herself up onto her horse's back. "We'll be in touch. Once we've settled in Val Royeaux I'll send a messenger to the Hinterlands. They'll let you know where we are."

"Keep me updated," I say. "And seriously, be careful. I don't want to hear about some Fereldan noble being executed for attitude." I give Aedan a pointed look, but he just laughs out loud, waving my comment aside.

"If anybody would get executed for attitude, it's you, sis," he says.

I shrug. "I tell it how it is."

"In a manner of speaking," Alistair says.

I grin as the two of them wave us away. Alistair and I step out of their way, and less than a moment later, they're gone, galloping out of the stalls. I watch them go, eyes slightly wider than usual, with a frown on my face. Alistair rests his hand on my shoulder because it's far more comfortable than trying to hold hands with gauntlets on.

"I don't like that they're going to Orlais," I say simply. Then I turn on my heel to start saddling my horse. He was sent from Vigil's Peak the other day so I wouldn't have to walk to Denerim. Alistair finds his horse in a stall and leads it out, speaking softly to it. I smile at the sight. He has a way with animals I can't match. Animals just like him on principle. I take some adjusting before they like me.

"So we have to find Celene on the road before going to Denerim?" Alistair asks.

"That's the plan," I say, lifting the saddle onto the stallion's back. He tosses his head and looks back at me, giving me a look I can only describe as sassy. Freaking horse. Griffon has more attitude than I do. But it's hilarious. I love the damn thing despite all the problems he gives me when I'm riding. He behaves when it matters, so I can't complain.

"Is there a reason two Grey Wardens are escorting the Empress of Orlais?"

"Probably," I mutter, dropping to a knee to pull the girth tight. I wait a few seconds to make sure Griffon wasn't holding his breath. He likes to do that. Makes the saddle so loose it spins on his back and literally drops me from it. I hate it when he does that. "Hell if I know what it is though. Anora isn't good at explaining things through writing."

"I just feel like this is a bad idea," Alistair says.

I shrug to myself as I throw the saddlebags waiting for me onto the painted horse's back. Then I pull my bow from my shoulders and tuck it between the bags in its usual place. I check Griffon's reins and mouthpiece to see they're settled before heaving my body onto his back.

"Well I'd hope you would wait for us," Fergus says from the doorway. Alistair's just pulling himself up when my older brother walks into the stables with my mother and Wolf on his heels. "It's not everyday I get to see my little sister off."

"As long as you don't tell Alistair no darkspawn will ever get the best of me, then we'll wait," I say, smiling at my mabari as he trots up to my side, wagging his little tail. I reach down to rub his ears. "You coming along, boy? Or are you staying behind to be pampered?" He barks, pushing his face into my hand. "I guess I'll take that as my answer." I look up at Alistair, grinning, when my brother clears his throat.

"What exactly does Queen Anora want you to do again?" Mother asks.

I straighten in the saddle, patting my leg so Wolf knows to follow when Alistair and I depart. "She said I'm to find Empress Celene on the road and then accompany her to Denerim for peace discussions between Ferelden and Orlais."

"They want more out of the treaty," Fergus says.

"They're not getting more and once Celene sees the Hero of Ferelden marching up to her and her guards, she'll know it," Alistair says, smirking at me in the slightest.

"It would be unwise to instigate Orlais," Mother says. "The army is still weak after the Blight. Ferelden needs more time to recover before even thinking about resisting the Orlesians."

"Orlais needs to understand we can handle ourselves," I say. "We don't need their Chevaliers or their food. If the cities and towns were depending on their lords to protect them, we wouldn't be getting fat and complacent. The farmers would return to work and we'd be on our way back to supplying ourselves."

"If we're lucky, that's what Anora is going to tell Celene," Alistair says.

"But we're never lucky," I grumble. Shaking my head, I add, "We'll come back and let you know what happens as soon as we can, but then we're off to Vigil's Peak, and then Kirkwall."

"Good luck, my dear."


	24. Learned For You

_So Leliana and Aedan left Ferelden. Events are falling into place. Yay! Oh, and I've decided when the story switches to those two, I'm gonna stick it in first-person, probably Leliana's POV. But you never know. If you want to see it in Aedan's POV at any point, let me know! Otherwise, thanks for reading! To all you people who've followed, favorited, and reviewed, thanks! It means a lot to me! So would more reviews. I like to know how y'all feel about the story and where it's going. _

Anora wouldn't want us to escort Celene and her party if they were close to arriving at Denerim, so Alistair and I headed west, Wolf following at the lope he was trained to run at. He can keep up that pace for hours.

"We should stop," Alistair calls up to me. "There's a river and I'm sure the horses could use a drink." I nod, tugging on the reins to slow Griffon and Wolf continues on a few hundred feet, sniffing the ground eagerly. We're approaching the turnoff that leads south and to the Circle. Thinking of the Tower makes me wonder why Cullen was sent across the Waking Sea to Kirkwall. I remember freeing him from his prison and the look of utter relief on his face.

Alistair pulls his horse alongside my own, smiling at me. I return the gesture before dismounting, taking Griffon's reins to lead him on foot. Alistair does the same as we cut through the hills to the river he spoke of. Wolf is playing in the water by the time we get there, chasing fish through the shallow ends. He pounces on one and lifts it out of the water, dropping it at my feet when we reach the shoreline.

"He got dinner," Alistair says after releasing his horse to drink.

I laugh. "He's more useful than you."

"Not good for sex," Alistair retorts.

"No, but he keeps my bed warm just as well as you do," I say. "And he doesn't snore." Alistair scowls despite the grin tugging at his mouth.

"Oh, _I _snore?" Alistair asks, raising an eyebrow in time with me dropping Griffon's reins. The horse wanders off to the river, happily taking his time in getting there. "You should hear yourself. Disruptive. Ruining my sleep with your snoring and thrashing about."

I step right up to him, focusing on keeping my gaze locked on his no matter how many times he looks at my lips. "Thrashing about? No, no. That's you." I cross my arms and raise an eyebrow, waiting for his retort.

"I don't wake up in the middle of the night screaming about darkspawn anymore."

I snort in a very unlady-like fashion. "It's not _those _kind of nightmares."

He takes a step closer. He's so damn close that I can feel his breath in my hair. Our armor is practically rubbing together. "It's not? That's good."

"You're telling me. How long have I been a Warden? Five years or so. A Calling that fast? Pfft-"

Alistair rolls his eyes, laughing. "You never shut up, do you?"

I wrap my arms around his neck and tilt my head to the side, scrunching my face up like I'm thinking really hard about something. "I could, but where's the fun in that?"

"I could think of several better uses for that mouth of yours," Alistair whispers, resting his hands on my hips.

"Oh really? Like what?" I ask a little too innocently.

He grins that stupid grin that makes my heart melt before kissing me. And it's not gentle. He groans into my mouth, hungry for the closeness, but I don't let him get much farther than that. I put a hand on his chest to tell him to stop, so he does, sighing.

"I hate it when you do that," Alistair says.

I turn away, throwing him a grin over my shoulder. "It keeps you interested." I swing up into the saddle and look back down at him to see a scowl firmly in place. "That look says I'm right, you know." Alistair mumbles something to himself as he remounts his own horse. I whistle to call my dog back to my side. He was playing in the water, so far in he has to swim ashore. I shake my head, laughing, when he hops up and shakes himself out. His fur sticks up in random angles in several places, but he doesn't seem to mind. "Let's head out. I don't want this to last longer than it has to."

"Neither do I," Alistair agrees. "You need to learn to not tease me."

I cock an eyebrow in his direction. "Or what?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

I cover my mouth to keep from laughing again, but I still get out a giggle or two, much to Alistair's amusement. I huff at him, faking annoyance, and set Griffon off at a gallop, headed back to the road. I check behind me to make sure Alistair is following on his horse. Wolf, being the showoff that he is, puts on a burst of speed and runs right past Alistair. My mabari slows to his normal pace once he reaches my side, barking happily as he trails water behind him.

Seeing the road doesn't take long, and I pull the reins left so Griffon turns to match it.

_How far out do you think the Orlesians are? _Hope asks.

_I don't know. Probably by Lake Calenhad. _

She goes back to her humming without further prodding, leaving me to my thoughts.

Not that I like that, but oh well. I can actually spend some time thinking about...stuff. Like why the First Warden would threaten _me_. I've never met the man, and if I have it my way, I never will. But from the stories I've heard from the Wardens he sends to check up on Ferelden, I get the feeling he's not a man to be messed with, politically or physically. I don't believe half the stories I hear though. If I did, he'd be exactly what Nathaniel described me as being when Vigil soldiers found him trying to assassinate me. Ten feet tall with lightning shooting from my eyes.

But why would he threaten me? He knows as well as anyone what I claim to be and I have Loghain to thank for that. I have no idea how he found out about the Agents, but he did, probably hearing about what happened with those Templars at the Cousland estate in Denerim. He shouted it at the Landsmeet and ruined a lot of support I could've gotten. The only reason we stood above him was because no Fereldan is dumb enough to stand against Highever, and Highever had our backs.

If the First Warden knows about that, why would he try to scare me? It won't work. I couldn't care less what he said. Not to sound arrogant, but lately, when people think of the Wardens, they think of me for obvious reasons. They don't think of him or Weisshaupt or anything else. They think of the person who killed the Archdemon. I might not be anything special outside of Ferelden, but Maker, you'd think a man who knows all the Wardens' secrets would know to not mess with the one Warden to survive killing an Archdemon.

Alistair's voice snaps me out of my thoughts. He draws his horse in front of mine and stops, looking at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I asked if you heard the scream," Alistair says.

"Scream? What scream?"

"I heard someone scream," he says. "It was faint, but it was there. I know I-"

I hold up a hand to forestall him, eyes narrowed. I look inland, ears straining, and then I hear it. It's not a normal scream. It's guttural, like the sound a monster would make. It sends chills down my spine at an alarming rate.

No. Not chills.

"That's darkspawn," Alistair says.

"You gotta love it," I say sarcastically. "We look all fancy, too! Damn, and I thought I'd have to deal with Orlesians instead."

"I think the Orlesians are worse, honestly. We can't kill them."

"Sadly," I say, unclasping the ridiculous garment hanging from my shoulders. I stuff it into a saddlebag and pull my bow out and onto my lap, setting it across my knees. Alistair shrugs his shield onto his forearm, draws his sword, and then we turn off the road, heading for the sounds of screams. Wolf runs alongside us, ears flattened. He knows. That much is obvious.

It doesn't take us long to get close enough that the darkspawn know we're coming. Their grunts and groans turn to shrieks of excitement, sounds I had hoped I'd never have to hear again. But I'm a Warden. I don't really have a choice in the matter, do I?

"Watch out!" Alistair exclaims, pointing. His horse practically skids to a stop. He's lucky to not be thrown off.

"What is it?" I shout up at him.

"Ogre!"

Nice. Just...nice.

"What are they attacking?"

"Not our Orlesians," he says. "A family, maybe? Several?" He pauses and leans forward while I force my horse up beside his. Wolf follows, growling low in his throat. "Is that Theorn?"

"Where?" I look for the elf in the fighting, but decide against wasting the time. "Never mind. Let's go."

"Good plan," Alistair says. He leads the way forward, heading straight for the blundering beast the size of a small house. I go to follow him and my mabari, but my arm spasms, pain lancing up through it in waves. It's so sudden and so intense that I freeze up entirely.

"_You are mine, human. That was the deal._"

Oh no. Fear starts racing through me in time with the waves of pain. No. Not here. Not now!

I hug my arm to my chest and double over in the saddle, breathing heavily. I squeeze my eyes shut and the pain seems to get stronger. It feels like someone shoved a branding iron through my hand and up my arm.

Something yanks me off my horse and throws me to the ground. For the briefest of moments, the pain vanishes, giving me the chance to summon my sword and get to my feet. The hurlock snarls furiously, bringing back its sword, and that's naturally when the pain returns. It rips through my arm with a vengeance, bringing me to my knees. I cry out and my hand reflexively opens, dropping my sword. The mark on my thumb joint flashes once, temporarily blinding the darkspawn preparing to kill me, and I use my left hand to blast it back with a chunk of dirt and stone. It rolls away, straight into the path of my very unhappy mabari.

I lean forward, still on my knees, and groan, trembling. My fingers wrap around my wrist so tightly I'm sure the blood flow to my right hand is cut off entirely.

"You need to move," a voice says. It's a man's voice, but definitely not Alistair's. It has a familiar sound to it as he drags me to my feet with an arm around my waist. That doesn't mean it's a good familiar. "You're not injured?"

"No," I say through gritted teeth.

"That's good. I'll get you to your horse and-"

"I _have _to help."

"You're hurting," the voice says. "Fighting darkspawn is a bad idea, Warden-Commander or not."

* * *

><p>Since leaving Highever, I haven't been able to feel...right. I feel like leaving was wrong. It is a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, one I have grown accustomed to feeling when around the three I call family. But since Aedan and I have separated and made for Orlais, the feeling has been eating away at me. Something bad is going to happen, and soon, and I feel if I don't tell Aedan or someone, it'll be my fault.<p>

The wind howls through the pass, so I pull my hood up and scoot closer to the fire, hands tucked firmly beneath my arms. After a moment of thought, I draw my knees up to my chest and hide my face on them. A shiver wracks my body, but I keep it under control. I'd rather not have Aedan worry about how cold I am. He's been worrying over Elissa enough the past two weeks. I don't need to give him something else to fuss over.

"You're awfully quiet for your usual self," Aedan says. "What's wrong?"

I shake my head in the slightest. "Nothing. I'm fine."

He grins at me. "You know, for how devout you were when my sister found you, you'd think you'd be less prone to lying than you are."

"I am fine, Aedan."

"You can quit with the lies whenever you want," he says, shrugging. He pokes at the fire with a twig, wrapping his cloak tighter around his body. "Don't know about you, but I'd be freezing my ass off over there. Want me to warm you up?" I scowl at him, but he just laughs.

"You're as bad as Zevran was."

"Zevran is still that bad if he's still alive."

"Which you do not know, so it would be 'was'."

He rolls his blue eyes and says, "Something has to be bothering you. You're never like this unless you're worried."

"You have enough problems without knowing my own."

Aedan sighs and gets to his feet, passing the fire to sit beside me. He immediately goes to cover himself in his cloak and the thin blanket he has, but then thinks better of it. He moves closer before throwing the edge of his cloak over my shoulder. Then he manages to get the sorry excuse for a blanket around the two of us and wrap his arm around me.

"There's this thing that we did, Leliana," he says. "It's called marriage. You see, when we did that, we promised to let each other's problems become our own. So your problems _are _my problems whether you like it or not. Just tell me."

"It's nothing."

"It has to be something."

"And it's not."

"But it is and we both know it," Aedan retorts, frowning. "Why can't you just tell me? Don't you trust me enough? Lady, I took werewolf claws to the chest for you. If you don't trust me after that, then I don't know what to say to you."

"I trust you," I say flatly.

"Then why don't you tell me what's wrong and get it over with? It'll make you feel better."

"I know that!" I snap. "I just want it to go away. I don't want it to be there."

"Don't want what to be where?" Aedan asks as gently as a man of his height and build can.

"Ever since we left, I feel like we should have stayed," I say, glaring at the fire. "I feel like our departure was the beginning of something bad."

"Like...Blight bad?"

"Yes."

"Easy," Aedan says. "Then we go back."

I shake my head and lean into him, glad for the warmth he brings. "We can't. The Divine is expecting us to be at the Grand Cathedral within the month and we need to know who sent that order to the Grand Cleric. If Justinia did not...I will need to go to Kirkwall. I'll have to figure it out and fix it."

"Then let me ask you this: do _you _think Justinia ordered that? Or do you think someone within Kirkwall forged it?"

"Justinia knows me, Aedan. She would never do something of that...magnitude."

"Then why are we even going to Orlais? We should pack up and head back to Kirkwall to figure this shit out. All of us."

Aedan's right. I know he is, but I don't want to admit it to myself. If I do, then that means I failed and whatever this feeling is warning me of is my fault.

I've come to accept that the Maker did not send me a vision. I've even come to accept that I probably did have a moment of weakness when I thought He did. But I know He talks to Elissa. And I know He counts me, Aedan, and Alistair as a part of whatever He has planned. If I let something happen now, I'm not just failing my family. I'm failing the Maker Himself, and I couldn't live with myself if I did.

Sitting here as I am, I'm suddenly glad I was naive that day. If I wasn't being foolish and stupid, I never would have met Elissa or Alistair.

But I wouldn't have even met Aedan either, and just the idea of that sends chills to my bones. I would be dead, or in Val Royeaux with the Divine. Before, that might have seemed the better option to me, but...I would have missed so much. I helped defeat the Fifth Blight. I saved countless lives doing so. And then there's Aedan. Marriage never seemed like an attractive idea until I met him. He's the exact opposite of Marjolaine, yet I fell for him. He is kind and brave whereas she was cold and content with letting people like me put my life on the line for her. Aedan is the kind of man to take an arrow for a stranger. Marjolaine wouldn't even do that for _me_, and she told me countless times that she loved me. I was such an idiot to ever think that she did. She was a liar, nothing more, and I am glad that she's dead.

If there's only one person that can keep me tied down the way he has, I'm happy to say I found him.

"In the morning, we go back," I say.

"Good," he says. Aedan rests his forehead on the top of my head and breathes deeply. "Maker, but your hair is the best thing I've ever smelled."

"You are a strange man."

"I'm a _happy _man," Aedan whispers. "I might be freezing my extremities off right now, but that's fine. I've got my bard and that's what matters." He gives a nervous laugh when he adds, "I've been studying Orlesian."

"And what did that have to do with what you just said?"

"You'll see," Aedan says. "Let me think. I had something I wanted to surprise you with." He sits up to think, staring at the side of the mountain with a thoughtful expression on his face. Then it looks like he remembers what he wanted to and a blush creeps over his face. I raise an eyebrow, curious. He hasn't blushed when he talks to me since we first met. Now I want to know what he's going to do.

Clearing his throat, Aedan says, "_Tu es mon coeur_."

I'm dumbstruck for a minute. He...was learning Orlesian so he could say that to me?

"Did I say that right?" he asks hurriedly.

"Flawlessly," I say, smiling up at him. "_Je te aime trop_."

"Er...what did you say?"

I laugh once, wrapping my arms around his abdomen to pull myself closer. "I said 'I love you too'."

"'Too'? But that's not what I said."

"No, but it's true."

He smiles and kisses the top of my head. "I'm glad to say I didn't stop my sister from letting you join our band of lunatics at Lothering. I love you."


	25. Wardens of Orlais

_This is a kinda short chapter for how long I've had them lately :/ Sorry, but I was at a loss for where to go with it. _

_Anyways, thanks SpartanDJB for that review! It was short, but I got a kick outta it. He really is turning out to be a jerk, isn't he? That wasn't part of my original plan, but it works for the story. He's like a teacher that cracks down on the kids that don't do their homework. Except more...deadly. And mean. And powerful o.o_

Wolf's angry barks wake me from my sleep. He's growling at the door and his fur is bristling. "I've had enough of you today! Shut up and let me sleep, dammit!" He looks back at me and barks before he growls at the door again. Sighing, I roll out of bed and to the cold stone floor, shivering. I pull on my boots as I make my way over to the warhound giving a door a piece of his mind. Grabbing him by the collar, I start to pull him away when my door swings open at a blinding speed.

"My lady, help me! I-"

The servant's voice is cut off by the sound of something heavy slamming into his flesh. My eyes widen as he falls to his knees, then the floor. A broadhead protrudes from his back, spurting blood everywhere. My eyes flick up to the archer that shot him and without thinking, I let Wolf go. He leaps forward and slams into the man while I go back into my room for my bow and arrows. I hear the man scream, but push the thoughts from my mind as I pull my quiver over my shoulder. Upon returning, I see several men flood out of the adjoining rooms and the hall just outside, weapons glistening red. Oh Maker. They're...they're...

Wolf squeals, and I don't hesitate when I let an arrow fly straight into the man's neck. The force of impact sends him reeling backwards into one of his allies. My dog rips into the man the dead had fallen into when the door beside mine is practically thrown off its hinges. My twin, Aedan, bursts from inside, sword and shield in hand. He still looks half asleep, and he has his sleep clothes on, but he's awake, and that's good.

Aedan runs right past me, slamming into the nearest man at full speed. They topple over, but Aedan is on his feet first, and that's the end of the leather-clad man.

"Watch out!" he says.

I duck and roll beneath the dagger sailing for my throat, using the end of my bow to pull my attacker's feet from under him. He flips onto his back and I drive an arrow into his chest. Another of the men come after me, but I have the same arrow fired before he can so much as think about how he wants to kill me. His legs keep going while his chest is thrown back, knocking him to the floor.

"Check on Oriana and Oren," Aedan says. "I'll cover you."

I nod before dashing across the hallway, hitting the door with my shoulder to throw it open. I look around for the two, but what I find is horrifying. My brother and my dog are finishing up with the fighting, but I can't make myself help them. Oriana is lying in a puddle of her own blood, wrapped around Oren like she'd tried to protect him.

They're gone.

As I fall to my knees, I hear the sound of air splitting behind me, Aedan call my name, and that of a strange laughter, but I don't care. I let the sword hit me. I let myself die.

* * *

><p>I bolt upright, looking around wildly. It takes a moment for me to calm my heart rate, to understand that it was just a nightmare. As I draw my knees up to my chest, I feel Alistair slide his hand up my arm, face a mixture of confusion and concern.<p>

"What's wrong?"

"Nightmares," I say softly. "I...I saw Oren and Oriana. They were dead."

His eyebrows knit together and he sits up, resting his hand on my shoulder. "You dreamt of the night Howe attacked you?"

I nod once, shuddering at the memory. It was a complete and utter slaughter. All the servants and visiting nobles were killed. Few soldiers survived. It seems like the only people to have made it out of that castle that night were Aedan and I. So many people died...too many. I'm just glad to be able to say I killed that treacherous bastard. Howe got what he deserved. I made sure of it.

It's not as bad as it could've been though. If Aedan and I hadn't gotten off that tower, Ser Gilmore and our mother would've eventually died. The Blight would've continued unchecked because without Wardens, there isn't stopping it.

Life throws me as much shit as it can, but I've learned to look at what I have and take the problems in stride.

"I'm sorry," he says, frowning. "I'd make them go away if I could."

"It's fine, Alistair. I don't want to forget them. If I can kill a high dragon and escort Orlesians to Denerim, then I can deal with nightmares." I smile at him anyway. "But thank you. That means more than you think."

"Good because I think it's time for us to get up," Alistair says. He kisses my temple before he starts throwing on his armor and weapons. Once he's finished, he heads out of our tent so I have room to get ready myself. I do so quickly, pulling my quiver haphazardly over my shoulder as I step out into the morning sun. I wince, shielding my eyes with an arm.

"The dogs are up," I hear one of the Orlesians say.

"Alistair, look! Attitude from a prick!"

He stifles a laugh while the guards pass with scowls on their faces. I plant my hands on my hips and hold my head high as I scan the rapidly breaking camp. Last week, after we found Theorn defending a group of families fleeing the Hinterlands from a darkspawn incursion (that I now have to go check on) we found Celene and her entourage where I predicted we would by Lake Calenhad. The three of us had joined their camp in the middle of the night, pitching our tents as far away from the Orlesians as possible before going to tell Celene we were here. Theorn doesn't look like he's awake yet, but he still has a little bit of time before he needs to be, so I decide it's time to go formally introduce myself to Warden-Commander Clarel. She somehow caught wind of me being forced into escorting the Empress, so she tagged along with a few of her Wardens.

"Off to find our brothers and sisters?" Alistair asks, falling in beside me as I start to weave my way through the Orlesian camp.

I wince inwardly, but keep my face carefully blank as we walk. "I don't consider them as such until they give me reason to."

Alistair looks forward, going mute for several minutes. While he processes that, I lead him through the militant part of the camp to the more disorganized, frivolous part. "You actually have a good point," he agrees, nodding. "They haven't done much to help us. Why should we consider them friends?"

"Exactly."

We cross through the rest of the camp and head towards the collection of three tents thirty yards out. Their campfire has long since gone out, but they seem to be fine with that as they sit around it and eat in silence. One Warden has the same set of armor as Alistair and I while another wears leathers similar to Cyrus', and the third wears the traditional blue and silver robes of mage-Wardens. As we approach their small camp, the mage gets to her feet, setting her bowl of whatever aside to smoothen her armor. Taking that as a sign from her, the man and woman get to their feet as well, turning to face us.

The mage with the shaved head circles around her friends to stand before them, and once we're close enough, she offers a hand and a sort of friendly smile. "I am Clarel, Warden-Commander of Orlais."

I shake her hand and return the half-friendly grin she offered. "I'm Elissa. Commander of the Grey here in Ferelden. This is Alistair."

She clasps her arms behind her back, saying, "This is Jackson and Aimèe."

"Morning," I say quickly, nodding to them in turn. The man, Jackson, is in the process of putting on his helmet and Aimèe is just giving me a blank look. "What brings you to Ferelden?"

"How old are you exactly?" Jackson asks, voice thick with a Nevarran accent and muffled by his helmet.

"Twenty-seven," I say, raising an eyebrow.

He snorts. "You're a young one."

"I've been over this with your Warden-Constable. I'm quite familiar with that fact, thanks."

"We don't normally recruit people unless they're your age back in Nevarra," he says. "It's strange to see someone that young leading."

"I'm not going to go back and let the Archdemon live just so I don't have to be the Warden-Commander," I snap. He puts his hands up innocently and steps back, nudging Aimèe to follow him. They begin breaking their tents down while Clarel sighs, running a hand down her face.

"I apologize if they offended you," she says, exasperated.

"They didn't," I say quickly. "I should've expected questions when I walked over here."

Clarel nods absentmindedly, relaxing a little. She zones out for a moment, and then snaps back to attention rather abruptly. "I hear you have just gotten married. Congratulations to both of you."

"Um...how?" Alistair asks, confused.

"Well, word spreads fast through Orlais," she says. "You might be Fereldan, but my countrymen don't ignore people who do things like killing an Archdemon."

"Oh. Well, thanks I suppose."

I grin at him as she beckons us to follow her. She trails off, closer to the encampment of Orlesian nobles and soldiers. "I hear you are a mage, Commander."

"More or less. I'd rather stab things than waste energy using spells," I say.

"Ah," she says, nodding seemingly to herself. "You lead from the front, then?"

"You could put it that way," I agree, nodding myself.

Alistair nudges me. "I'm going to get us ready to head out. Are you okay staying here?"

"Yeah, thanks," I say. He smiles before leaving, shrugging his shoulders to situate his shield better. I watch him go, more concerned and worried than anything else, but I don't call him back. Instead, I look back to Clarel and force a smile.

"There are still darkspawn in Ferelden, yes?" she asks.

"In numbers I'd be embarrassed to admit," I say. Before she can offer any assistance, I wave her worries aside. "But it's fine. I know where they're coming from. It's just a matter of figuring out how to deal with them."

She raises an eyebrow. "Have you not thought to seal the entrance to the Deep Roads?"

"We seal all the entrances we come across, but these darkspawn aren't coming from one. They're pouring from the Wilds in massive raiding parties every few months from the reports I've been given. My Wardens in the Hinterlands have been doing their best to keep the holes in check, but whenever we close one, another seems to pop up out of nowhere."

Clarel nods, looking thoughtful. "I'd like for you to take me to the Hinterlands, then. Perhaps I'll be able to help you with this issue."

"I'd appreciate it more than you realize," I say. "I didn't kill the Archdemon only to have its little minions spring outta the ground and keep killing more Fereldans."

"I imagine so," Clarel says.

* * *

><p>As I flip the clasp of my pack closed, Aedan rests a hand on my shoulder, brows furrowed. "I...I thought on what you said last night. I think it would be wiser for us to go to Orlais, and then send a message to Elissa and Alistair. I'm sorry that I tried to encourage us going back."<p>

"Aedan..." I sling the leather bag over my shoulder as I stand. "It's fine. I already said-"

"But you were right the first time. We _should _go to Orlais despite the feeling of dread you have. It's more important than acting on a feeling."

I shake my head. "I've learned to act on my feelings. If we don't go back...I do not want to know what could happen. I wanted to go to Orlais to see if Justinia sent that order to Kirkwall, but it is foolish to think she'd condemn a friend. She's not that kind of person." I put my hand on his metal-covered chest, smiling. "Neither am I, and neither are you. Feelings like this tend to have some truth to them, so we would be condemning Elissa and Alistair to facing whatever it is warning alone. Elissa and Alistair are my best friends, and Alistair is yours. We can't leave them like that."

Aedan's face flattens out to a blank expression as he takes the hand I'm resting on his chest in his. He seems to be thinking, and after a long moment of it, he nods. "You're right, as usual. We stick to the plan then." He stares at me, eyes twinkling in the strange lighting that hangs over any mountain. They seem paler than usual, but it must be from the snow. It is everywhere, covering everything. "Have I told you that I love you today?"

"No." I cannot help my smile growing.

He grins at me. "Well I do. I love you, Leli. Always." He kisses the palm of my hand before pulling me into an embrace. I hug him back, hiding my face in his shoulder. His arms can make me feel safe no matter how scared and terrified and confused I am. He knows it, and is more than glad to offer the comfort when I need it.

I want to believe that everything will be fine. I so desperately do, but I know it will not. Life has a strange way of beating us down at every turn, like it's daring us to keep going. More than once, I have thought about giving up because I don't want to risk losing everything I gained in the past five years. I lost little and gained much. It is a dumb, trivial thing to want (or I think it is; Elissa and Alistair might disagree), but I am happy to say I found a family with the three Wardens, and they seem happy with it as well. Our little group is dysfunctional and we are probably insane, but it is better to be insane with your lunatic family than alone.


	26. Darkspawn All Over Again

_Hey, guys, guess what! This story is now over half the length of its predecessor, the Forgotten Cousland, and is definitely much longer than FC was at this point. Yay for longer stories! :D Also, I'm somewhat excited to admit I've started another story (because I needed another distraction keeping me from this .) about Aedan and Leliana. Just fluffy stuff, though. No plot, no story except maybe tidbits of what goes on while Elissa is off doing Elissa-stuff (yeah, I said it. Deal with it lol) for those four months in the Forgotten Cousland._

_As always, I hope you enjoy the chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please leave a review! I love them! Yes, even that 'the Maker's a jerk' from Spartan. You need an account man! I'd love to respond to your reviews! They make me laugh xD In a good way, I promise!_

One of Celene's guards is sick, so Alistair and I ride to Highever with one of her other guards, namely their captain. He's a tall man with wild brown hair and green eyes that glare at everything and everyone we pass. Not that they're looking at him. Fereldans couldn't care less about Chevaliers. They're looking at Alistair and I, smiling and calling out greetings. Wolf chases cats and chickens (like he always does) until he spots the children playing in the mud, and decides to join them, barking excitedly. I actually pull Griffon to a stop, cross my arms, and fix my dog with an unamused stare as he rolls around with the kids. They seem entertained, piling more mud on his head and throwing it at each other, wrestling with the warhound when he shakes the watery dirt from his body.

"Oh I guess he can stay there," Alistair says innocently. "Right? It won't hurt to be free of the monster for a little while."

I blink, keeping my face carefully blank, and then laugh. "Wolf! You be ready to go when we leave, got it?" The mabari barks his affirmative before resuming his fun. Alistair grins at me, to which I roll my eyes.

"I'd appreciate returning to the Empress sooner rather than later, Wardens," the Chevalier says. "I am unfamiliar with your assassination attempts and their distractions, but this is not uncommon."

I can't see his face through his helmet, but I look at the eyeslit anyway, glaring. "Did you just suggest we might be taking some time to keep you from protecting Celene?"

"That's _Empress _Celene to you, Fereldan."

Alistair and I both snort. "It's Empress Celene to people who care," Alistair says flatly. "And we don't." I smile at him even though he's busy staring the Chevalier down much the same way he did with Aedan when we first met at Ostagar. Alistair's grown a lot of backbone since then, and it takes plenty effort on my part to make him blush nowadays, but it's always worth it. He's adorable when he's a stuttering fool. To be completely honest, I felt the same way when I first met him because I had no experience whatsoever with men. The only person I ever felt attracted to other than him was Teagan, and I didn't really have to work to...get involved. Teagan and I had been friends for years, so Eamon and my father arranged a marriage. I never saw him much, leaving me little time to figure out how flirting worked. I grew out of my little crush and obviously broke off the engagement. I'd long since grown out of it by the time I got the courage to do so, and I was content believing I'd be unwed for quite sometime after my stint with the dueling thing. I was even okay with never getting married.

And then I met Alistair. Our relationship was awkward at first, what with all the blushing and not knowing how to flirt on either of our parts. There was Aedan's overprotectiveness, too, and too many darkspawn to think about what might happen once the Blight was over.

Still, I'm glad I ended up here. I have my family and no end to my working. I like to move and fight and exercise. I am just fine with being busy.

"Liss?" Alistair snaps his fingers in my face. "Could you stop staring at me like that?"

I blink and jolt myself out of my thoughts. "Staring at you like what?"

"Like you're entranced or something. Some big word Leliana would know."

I laugh, shaking my head in my amusement. "Well, I like your face. It's one of your many attractive features." I wiggle my eyebrows suggestively and he groans, running a hand down his face.

"Must you tease me in public?"

"Oh, it's too fun to not," I say.

Swinging my leg over the saddle, I drop to the ground and lead Griffon through the small city this town has turned into. Alistair and the Chevalier follow suit, pulling their horses after them by the reins. I take the Orlesian to the local herbalist's home and wait for him outside, leaning on the wall while I chat with Alistair. We talk about little things, things we wish we could've done and places we'd like to go, nonsensical stuff like that. He tells me how much he wishes he could've helped me with getting Andraste's Ashes and how much he really would've enjoyed not becoming a high dragon's chew toy. I tell him how much I wish I never walked into the damn Temple of Sacred Ashes to begin with, that I'd rather just be Commander of the Grey, and leave it at that.

The door to the shop swings open not long after, revealing a very annoyed looking Orlesian. He carries a bag over his shoulder and hops on his horse without a word. Alistair and I exchange glances, but say nothing as we remount and follow the Chevalier back to the caravan. At this pace, we could be in Denerim tomorrow afternoon. Thank the Maker. I don't think I could've dealt sleeping near Orlesians any longer.

The caravan is visible within minutes, along with the elf running up to meet us. Alistair and I stop to see what Theorn wants, but the Orlesian continues on to help his friend.

"What is it?" I ask. Something bad. Has to be. I can tell by the wild look in his eyes and the fact 1that he has his new staff. He doesn't like that carry that thing; he's made it obvious.

"There's...a lot...of darkspawn," he pants, doubling over. "Headed for...the Vigil." He waves a hand in the general direction of Amaranthine and the Warden fortress. "Orlesian Wardens...gone. Help."

"Can you warn Fergus?" I ask.

The horned elf nods as he straightens. "I'll meet you at the fortress. They...weren't sure if the darkspawn were headed there or to the city."

"Thanks." Theorn nods again and starts to make his way back to Highever when I remember Wolf. "Oh, and bring my dog with you!"

"You got it!" he replies, turning his jog into a sprint.

I look at Alistair, frowning. "Ready to see some darkspawn?"

He laughs once. "Hell no! I saw enough during the Blight."

"Tell me about it."

"But we're Wardens. We don't really have a choice, do we?"

I shake my head, saying, "Unfortunately, no."

* * *

><p>We haven't made much progress through the blizzard. It might be the middle of spring in the rest of Ferelden, but in the Frostbacks, it's always winter. The horses can barely walk without losing their footing, and I cannot see more than three inches in front of my face. I can only be glad I thought ahead and told Aedan to bring his winter clothes. I have my gloves and my scarf on, cloak wrapped as well around my body as it can be, with my face covered in a Fereldan snow mask. It covers everything but my eyes, and even those are cold.<p>

The wind howls through the pass, whipping us at a blinding speed. My hood is thrown back and exposes my head to the elements. I'm shivering ten times as worse as before within seconds. Aedan is in a similar state, but he's fighting to get his hood back up while I decide to just suffer through it for the moment.

"We should've stopped at Haven!" Aedan yells.

"Too late now," I shout back. "Keep moving!"

I think he laughs, but it is hard to tell with the wind. "That's if I don't turn into an Aedan-cicle first."

I roll my eyes, not in the mood for his jokes. I pull on my horse's reins to keep it moving, leading it through the knee-deep snow blindly. It follows by stepping in my footprints. Aedan's horse does the same while he tries to parallel me. But he can't. I am always one step ahead of him. Literally. I do not want to stop until we find shelter. And even that would be a miracle. The pass is far too wide for us to see either sides of it. We have to hope for a rock sitting out in the middle of our path if we want anything. And hope I do. I'm so cold I do not remember what warm is like.

"You have any firewood left?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "We used the last of it last night."

"I don't think we will be finding anymore anytime soon."

"Me either," Aedan agrees. He holds up an arm to cover his eyes from a blast of snow and wind. I do the same, wincing at the sting in my eyes. The wind blows past my arm and covers my eyes in snow and dirt and whatever else it has. I reach for my hood again and yank it back up over the mask I'm wearing. Only the front of it is made out of heavier cloth, which I find makes no sense, but once again, I think like an Orlesian and this is Ferelden.

"Leli, I-" The howling of the wind cuts Aedan off and his scowl is apparent through his mask, but he draws his sword, and I take that as a signal to draw my bow.

"What is it?" I call.

"I'm not sure," he replies. "With the shivering, I can't tell if I'm just this cold or if I'm sensing darkspawn."

I do not like where this is going. Aedan was right. We should have stopped at Haven, but I insisted we keep going, foolishly thinking we could outrun the storm coming in from Orlais. I was wrong. So horribly wrong.

"We should keep going!" Aedan yells. I nod, tugging on the reins of my horse to keep him moving, but I don't pull my bow back over my shoulder. If Aedan even thinks he's sensing darkspawn, I want it where I can reach it.

I know we should just wait the storm out. I want to just sit and try not to freeze to death, but if we do, we're relinquishing what little body heat we manage to retain. At this pace, we might as well be sitting, but we have a lower chance of getting frostbite if we keep moving. We aren't going nearly as fast as the blizzard, and by the time we hit the Fereldan-controlled part of the path, it will have turned to rain.

To check I still follow the trail, I lift my head from my feet. Briefly, I see a figure the size of a man, or at least, I think I do. I whip back to see where Aedan is, but he's still trodding along behind me. I look back to where I saw the shadowy figure, but it's gone.

I do not like this. Not one bit. He thinks he's sensing darkspawn, and now I'm seeing things? Oh no. This is definitely not good.

"Did you see that?" I ask.

"See what?"

"I thought I saw someone through the storm, so I checked to see if you'd just gotten past me, but when I looked back, they were gone."

He motions for me to stop, so I do, and he comes up to my side, removing his shield from the saddle of his horse. "Grab your daggers. Elissa might hate me for wasting one of the Cleavers, but we need to get out of here. Set your horse loose. We make a break for the gates." I nod and do as he suggests quickly. I feel horrible about what we're leaving these horses to fend against, but he's right. Our lives are more important than our horses. If the darkspawn think we're running somewhere else, then we take the few seconds it buys us and go with it. "All right. Which way was the figure facing?" I point to the left. "Set the horses right and back. It'll confuse them and buy us the most time."

I turn my horse, leading it in an arc, and slap its hindquarters with the tip of my bow. It bolts instantly. Aedan smacks his horse with his sword, and quickly enough, it's just us.

"Now what?" I ask.

"Now we run," Aedan replies. He sheaths his sword and slings his shield over his back before taking off down the mountainside. I sigh before bolting after him. I sink less in the snow, but he uses his weight and momentum to stay ahead of me.

It is not long before we hear the shrieking of the darkspawn. The sound moves away from us though, headed uphill, and I silently thank the Maker for our good fortune. Their hunting cries are soon too far away to be audible, swallowed by the wind and the numbness of my ears. I hope that our ruse works longer than expected, long enough for us to get a good start on them, but I know well enough they will soon realize that the Warden they were sensing is getting farther and farther away.

"Keep going!" Aedan says.

I ignore that statement as I lose my footing. I slam into the ground and roll downhill, straight into Aedan's knees. He yelps and we both roll down through the snow in a tangle of weapons and limbs. His shoulder clips mine, splitting the skin despite the leather armor protecting me. I don't think his armor damaged mine, but it had enough force behind it to damage my skin.

We roll for several hundred feet when Aedan's back slams into a boulder, effectively stopping the two of us while simultaneously alerting the darkspawn that we were running away from them. They'd started coming back down the mountain after undoubtedly killing our horses to search for us, and their cries could be heard while we rolled, but now they sound frantic and excited. They know where we are.

Aedan helps me up and we continue running. Between the adrenaline and the mild fear of darkspawn I now harbor, I'm terrified. My heart races wildly, mostly from our sprint, but the fear plays a big part in it, too. I want nothing more than to return to the warm and sunny fields of Ferelden, to be where I am safe and where I know my family is, but right now, all I can be assured of is that they're alive.

As far as I know, anyway. The only guarantee I have is Aedan. And we could very well end up dead within the hour.

Something slams into my side and throws me back in the snow. I don't even stop to see what. I wrestle beneath it, forcing my foot between my body and its, putting everything I have into kicking the hurlock off me. The darkspawn is barely thrown off, but Aedan's there before it can so much as recover, and he drags his sword across its throat effortlessly. He offers me a hand up, one I gratefully accept, before pulling me after him. I get my bow on my back when I realize how stupid it would be for me to try and use that when I can hardly see my own two feet.

The darkspawn scream and shriek their presence while Aedan just focuses on getting us down the mountain and I focus on where I put my feet. I rarely lose my balance or my footing, and when I do, it's embarrassing. I'm a rogue, a graceful fighter, and here I go, falling down a hill.

"I know what I said to you at Redcliffe was true, but Maker, I'm really starting to hate being a Warden!" Aedan says. "Come on; keep up!" The urgency in his voice is clear. I can't sense the darkspawn, but I can hear them, and there are a lot. Far too many for us to fight, especially in this weather.

I look back to see torches appearing in the haze. The darkspawn throw them after us to light their way forward. The ones behind the throwers scoop them back up and take their friends' jobs of whipping the burning sticks at Aedan and I. None of them come anywhere close to hitting us, but the light hurts my eyes, and I try not to look directly at it. The darkspawn, however, do not see bothered. They chase and throw without fail, screaming the whole way down. I have a headache within seconds, one that the cold doesn't help.

We have been running so long that my body actually feels warm. I'm overheating with all these clothes on. Aedan's firm grip on my right hand has kept those fingers warm, but my left hand remains an ice cube, along with my head and face.

I feel a sharp pain erupt in my shoulder and I cry out, thrown off my feet from the force of it. Aedan loses his grip on me and I roll downhill again. What I can see when I face uphill says I'm bleeding. The ripping sensation in my shoulder says arrow. A barbed one.

There's a strong chance I just might get Tainted by this damn thing.

I lied. I can feel the darkspawn corruption as it spreads through my veins.

I'm going to die.


End file.
